calmer days
It is days like these
I want to let my hands drip into your mouth,
floating down life's dream,
with sunsets and bagels to stuff us full
of what life really means.
You'll forget these present handcuffs
when we're slipping on the wet stones
in front of God's Japanese garden.
And I will not be so manic,
I swear,
not so crammed shut and hollering
about every nitpicky thing,
about how much I hate people
and all their ratty ideas.
We will lie down
on the acid-green grass
and let out farts
that feel better than any sonata.
I know you know what I mean.
There will be plenty of that dish-feeling
you get when we're shopping.
We don't even need heaven right yet.
People already look at us in wonder.
How can that be?
they say.
They are so crazy.
They are so right.
So traditional
or wacky
or "in love"
or staid
or piping mad
or whatever other labels
people use in place of ignorance.
And like ten thousand cliches
they can never, never know
what we both know on these calmer days