Miserly tactics
Listening to the wind
Orange helicopters floating
In the sky like fried chicken
Two old friends on the line
Talking about how I had
Two sisters now
An old man gets into a car
That he thinks is his
And I can’t place the face of
Previous neighbors that I haven’t
Seen in a long while but
They both know me
I touched her grandchild’s
Beautiful curly hair
Mixed baby I didn’t ask
She was in a shopping cart
But I knew it was ok to
She pulled away
I found her grandma outside
Once again happy to say
Many returns of the day
Psychologically mostly spent
But before I left still not ready
To say everything was okay
And felt pushed back even by the
Forgiveness that was waiting for me
Ah, well that’s how it goes
Things get canceled
Changed and rearranged
Getting comfortable with the inevitable
Was never really his forte
I would pull myself away to help
This lost soul find his car
Rather than stand around to
Finish a conversation that was
Intended to make me feel better
We could always come back to that
Or would we in the end?
Complaisant isn’t it
I never entered the conversation
Static fuzz is all it was
Radio silence
© GÄ
Poétique 