A Thousand Words

(Photo stolen with love and without permission from Django Bohren.)

For My Pretty Friend

The children of parents who swing
roll around town
and grow up banging their good brains
against the walls of the world we live in
While nighttime bed springs sang
the children sat in one room
with only each other and learning
the lessons that will make them very good drunks.
What makes mother and father
has broken down and
picking up fags and touching tongues
they stick out hips and laugh too loud
Growing up to paint their lips and
hide their hearts
The need for trust so keen
that one body cannot hold it
it trembles and stumbles inside them
their souls painted by Picasso
And in hand-me-down clothes
and broken down trailers
they protect and protect and protect.
I don't judge
I'm sure it seemed like a fine idea
at the time.