1,000 Sentiments

You forgot to tell the story

of when you were younger

remember you were younger

And you tensed your arms and heels

like a stranger to the bus

and you reached behind

and you reached so high

and you reached for the sunday

that you imagined yourself a recluse

and learned to roll your “r”s

or maybe it was your tongue

so long ago

remember the times you found out

that a word meant something else

than you had thought

than you had meant

and you wanted to take

1,000 sentences back

but none more than the one

you spoke a moment ago

i’ve never read a book

about the grandfather of funk

on a train bound for the suburbs

of St. Louis

so i wonder if i should

begin to write one now

but i’m not sure i’d know how

or where to begin

or if he liked melted ice cream like my friend

or if the arch of his brand new gym shoes bothered him

as much as they seemed to

your eyes are in servitude to the night

never free from the smoky banter of dark clouds

that fill your room next to your charm proof window

reaching for my drink

i scrape my skin on your cardboard attempt at pathos

And suddenly

i’m having tea

with the queen of sophistry

how could you call yourself a goth

and not own a Joy Division CD.

remember when you found out

that love meant something else

than you had thought

than you had meant

and you wanted to take

1,000 sentiments back

but none more than the one

you spoke a moment ago

i’ll remember the story

when i am older

of course i’ll get older

it will be nostalgic as news reels

and maybe about us

and i’ll reach behind

and i’ll reach so high

and i’ll reach for someday

i’ll reach for someday