lyrics=
Love
is a wheelchair
going downhill at ninety miles an hour
but you’re too scared to jump
Love
is a sheet
With a hump
rounded by nearly invisible curves
that exists most profoundly in the imagination
Reality is a state of continuous decay-
seen through time-lapse photography.
But…
Is this Love?
A one-act play
Where fellatio rhymes with Horatio?
Where small children tumble slowly in space
Through the goalposts of a ruined building
One more field goal attempt from an eight-inch canon shot,
“He’s up…it’s…good!!!
Scoring a direct hit.
Three more points in a game that never ends
Until they run out of Palestinians
Diamonds are not forever
And if they are a girl's best friend
Then where do you plug it in?
I’ve never seen a diamond long or hard enough
To satisfy any woman I’ve ever met.
Is it true,
that it is Love which manifested you?
Is it true,
That Love is always true?
Or is it something uncertain?
I have been watching and I am not sure.
Too many people get warts on their lips from kissing frogs,
duck-walking through unbelievably small corridors-
to please-
and impress-
someone with their devotion toward,
“Look what I’ve done for you!”
You just know they would crawl a mile over broken glass-
to osculate your ass.
Love…love…love…
Just exactly what is it-
what you feel
or me…?
Is it furious, sweaty, and satiated to sleep?
Or pure as a rose white flame-
In the heart of some dude in a sheet
who has forgotten his name?
Is it a bullet blown from the hand as the soul’s last kiss?
Is it a kiss that kills like a bullet,
or, is it something I missed?
Is it…?
Is it…?
Words stumble from the tongue like concrete blocks.
The hands grow cold with sweat.
The blood rushes
and the flagpole rises
and the flag waves aloft on its own Fourth of July
and fireworks fill the sky!!!
and… Is that love?
When the purple-headed dragon rears
and spits into the swollen darkness…
from which springs both madness
And escape?
Is it Love that loses one life to save another,
or many,
or none?
Is it Love that cares
and yet does not care,
for anyone?
Is it Love that violently force-feeds innocence-
into a state of shocked and shaken disbelief?
Is Love a rose through which your hand passes-
when you reach out for it,
or is it a piece of meat?
Is it that slow and certain surge of satisfaction…
or two months in traction?
Is it the hairy well
of some noxious back door into Hell,
or a young girl with a penny at a wishing well?
And,
will it sell?
Is it some lonely guy mending a sparrow’s wing,
or a ravaged squab with its blood on the grass?
Or any one of us quiet for once…
Or none of these things…?
Love…
It seems…
Is the total of it all.
And love is what survives
No matter what occurs.
It is somewhere I once was-
but the recollection blurs…
Did we go to my place,
or hers?
It is somehow interwoven with life.
Perhaps the interweaving consciousness despite,
our attempts…
to have a personal effect…
on anyone who hasn’t met us yet…
For me…
Love is just over the border-
beyond which we think
“Hey sweetheart, how about a drink?”
Ah…… love…
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