summer object of affection left
for philadelphia
our final action was watching
a youtube video of a duck desiring grapes
and i think i know now how gandolfini felt

brush brush brush brush
trust trust trust trust
brush brush brush brush
lust lust lust touch
mind if i touch?

sinking teeth into the ink garnishing your epidermis
when you ride me in reverse until i hurt
some nights jaclyn i miss licking cigarettes out of your throat
and your consistently supportive art composure
the most dangerous game devil ever did play
was convincing himself he was not the devil
and the most heinous game i ever did play
was convincing myself that i was not the devil

spit fire lyrics in a pin stripe suit
for a rapt attention audience of you,
a microphone and cinder-block walls
between benders and calls
as the mini-fridge mildew accrues
darling your shawl seems a mite bit mishandled
quite cold outside, cop a flannel
october is laughing and i swear to rhymed rapping
i would break form to take you to saluda
who would miss us, laura?
just for a weekend of pinot noir
blue ridge park-way off i-twenty-five for the day
then back to the colleton to spark
like we did when we were children
wholesale at rosedale pabst blue ribbon pilsners
i feel you, should’ve sealed the deal with the truth
but tongue-tied, no lie, i think i’m evil
and so this song is dedicated to bad wine (corkscrew)
and all of my collegiate concubines (just for you)

sinking teeth into the ink garnishing your epidermis
when you ride me in reverse until i hurt
some nights jaclyn i miss licking cigarettes out of your throat
and your consistently supportive art composure
the most dangerous game devil ever did play
was convincing himself he was not the devil
and the most heinous game i ever did play
was convincing myself that i was not the devil

went from hand knit black beanies to a forest folk five panel
if i could do it again i would have done more drugs
and died before i could have wrote this album
christopher’s in charleston and laura darling
i think i may be your christopher
wishing that these sentiments would manifest in song
or a bottle of your finest chianti
remind me why i'm obsessed with the mountains
and the fountain of youth i bathed in in your presence
essence of reminiscence festering in my mind’s eye
saluda’s moon is shining
vexed vespers of inspiration on these spirits
rearing up out of winter coats
and i suppose chortling a smorgasbord
of whorish infidelities:
“i bet he will lose her, i bet fella’s losing it
hella branded by his vying muse’s ruse
musically the devil is in the debrief truthfully
why can’t you just be who i paint you to be
while loving me for exactly who i am?
‘cuz i’m running out of canvas.”

sinking teeth into the ink garnishing your epidermis
when you ride me in reverse until i hurt
some nights jaclyn i miss licking cigarettes out of your throat
and your consistently supportive art composure
the most dangerous game devil ever did play
was convincing himself he was not the devil
and the most heinous game i ever did play
was convincing myself that i was not incredible