we the two but she the breeze causes i tree to dance in the parks of this town where children play on wooden structures two story tall. where children laugh, throw pine cones and cause their parents to scuttle after pushing their parent glasses or dirtying their parental high quality sleeves. there is the sidewalk here, there is the store here there is the construction that slowly sucking them dry. whole streets lopped off as one by one pregnant buildings give birth their glass faced wombs emptied marked by 'for lease'signs an deep socket window eyes prowl for other dreamers cocksure to fill their bellies once more.
there are no balloons here. what happened to the balloons? to the laughter of children with their pink or red balloons following behind mother and her brown bags of sweater or wine bottle both. now we got the text phone, or the video phone all this noise leave no time for the silence. sad. it's in the silence we get the morse code of our heart. the rhythm to translate our desire.
'beat beat', ah i want to be a dancer.
'thump thump', ah i really love charlie.
now with all this noise all we got is our best guesses at the muted signal. all we got now is the quite tink that could be mistranslated.
'tink' huh what is that.
'tink tink' he will change.
'tink tink' stay in the cubicle, or stay in arizona or stay with the plate of hamburger and cheese.
we stumble onward. just this morning it was anger and attack. a stranger will stab you in the back a friend in the front and family will feel bad after they do it. we all got knives an scars but the joy is not the attack, no the joy of family is in the heal.
'its just its just its just,' she starts to say but where can you go?
they turned against him. 'ah, brother he tries to follow his heart, you know,' she says.
'sometimes it's a maze we gots to love in,' say i.
we know, you know. there are brick buildings here. some are taken care some are dilapidated. some house families and some the drunk. there are buildings and homes and you can never tell whose living behind what, you can never tell who is who or built for what until there is a little pressure.
i love i love i love. they say in the summer when the sky is blue and the parks are filled with picnics and joy. well anyone can do that.
in the street noise of our silence it begins to rain. in the noise i pull her close think of all the what could have beens all the mistranslations of the heart. in the rain and the cold and the breeze i pull her close, i love i love i love and don't notice the weather at all.
they say the weather will change. weathermen don't trust them. they say the wounds they will heal. the doctors don't trust them. they say that they don't got no time for you no more and start their whisper campaigns against it. seasons change and those that believe in a year of winter will either adapt or be left behind.
a man can fish the sea, he can't live there. we hold on we hold close we move forward towards whatever might come. you dig?
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