The Choir sang off key…
Hold a vigil for my memories,
Candles flicker off the wall
Hold a vigil for our reveries,
I just hope you had a ball
I remember moonlit nights,
Blue-line T stations; triple decker backdrops
I remember sun drenched days,
Eyeballs in skulls, wrapped in skin
looking for roses, finding dead grass
The unbearable heft of depression,
As the bass from the bar below
reverberation caught in the
black eyes of a mouse
Fidelity flawed, intuition cut in thirds
And the choir sang off key
And the choir sang off key
Years divided by months,
Months divided by days
Corpses at the alter,
Bloated, blackened, scythed
Ghosts of urbanization, caught in limbo
Set ablaze by condominiums
Where their buildings stood erect
People haunted by realities,
of dreams they never met
The only difference between me,
and Francis Scott Key
is when they light my fucking vigil,
may the choir sing off key
Negative in flowers
I’m negative in flowers,
While skylines scream in pain
I’m negative in flowers,
Where concrete meets the rain
The impact of loneliness in small rooms
Impersonal reveries in city mazes
where death stalks love to the soundtrack of
sirens and bus brakes
Beautiful California women, the only means
to my end
My father dead at 27, my mother a drunk
But they meant well; arrested development
on the east side of Boston
Monsters and lovers, hot city nights leaving
my soul on rigid sidewalks
My sins spread thin, storefront windows reflect
my pain as I pass by, embarrassed
Car horn backdrop, urban anonymity
Silver linings with bad intentions,
as I hold you tight, 10 minutes before
the alarm goes off, transcendental pain
as the sun rises over our lives,
as the sun rises over our lives
I’m negative in flowers,
A bouquet for the dead
I’m negative in flowers,
A bouquet for the dead
