pulp: generation

i may catch you in the second circle
on a seat of glass i
still have that crooked glance
that intrigued you then
but you let your hindsight name it a warning

i always could talk but it sounds like
a chant as we go on for miles
i could try to tell jokes but i never
had a knack for the timing

then climbing the mountains
in the thin air i remembered myself
just in time to see the moon
rise in the way that it used to
when i was a teenager looking into
windows in the deep night
still grasping the last dying
notions that something beautiful and arcane
goes down somewhere after bed

one day the uttermost west
will fall into the sea
that much i think i can say for certain
and inch by inch it's made true
by each little raised ripple
on the water

then you met me half way for once in a life time
you asked me to dance but i never liked
to dance
so i declined
when it was i akward i said i loved akward moments
and you stared at me coldly
then quietly slipped from the room

i drank to my lust
and i drank to my demons
i drank to every person in the room
on my way home my head played a pop song
and my throat howled anyway at the little sliver
of a moon

in tune with the frequencies of the breeding earth
she waited for me at the front door
with a cigarette
she hadn't smoked since i'd known her
but now she held a pack
and like that it didn't matter
but the memory of her body comes back to me now and then
when there's nothing else to think about

one day the last of the west
will be bought and sold
we'll guard what's left of our treasures
and quietly we'll grow old