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Frontier Ruckus
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Crabapples In The Century's Storm
You say that you've forgotten But I know that you're rotten in your sweet little way
Like the crabapples Themselves like ornaments Fermented in the suspense Of their sweet decay
Drinking Shell station wine beneath the Sylvan Lake willow My prophesied Rebecca on my bike trail and pillow I still see your cheeks so red in Pontiac summer The pulverized sidewalk and the racing and the stupor Or in danger, and the kids using a milk jug for a basketball I'd risk it all to ask it all, to bask the fall again in splendor
Tracing your rotten spine
Oh, but when you hair was still long Everything a new song and the heater and the theater Soiled tights and the nights Where we touched in standing darkness The odor was magnetic and we wore it like a harness
My memory is freezing in your dead night winter attic Evacuated all except for the electric static Of our bodies sparking on the carpet and the mattress Something made a tar pit out of what was once a fortress
Who can really say? Maybe I took that for granted But somehow my lips never left Where the back of your neck slanted
Oh, my little wastrel My sweet lost friend My piss is in the tendrils Of your rented house ivy That ensnares the end Suspended there
Like the crabapples Themselves like ornaments That's what you said one morning Looking out the back window of my parents'
Weren't some mornings so fine?
There inside that book I gave you Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Maybe there's a line you wrote to remind you or to save you
Pretty 'bois' sell shitty ploys But mark down all they're telling Catchphrases that vaporize Within ironic spelling
But now the crabapples are in the century's storm The World Series is over And the world's collapsing in its form
I think of all those young names that day on the stones we read Then cold Arizona Iced Tea when the cemetery scorched us red
Now I am blind to your weekends The snorting kind of your new friends But there's a lot where Washtenaw ends that you might recall
I know the way your body bends In the parked van where still impends The smoking frozen moment and The cataclysm of it all
And I know your girlhood diary pens I read it back to you with tenderness Inside that summer bed Across your mother's hall
Did I die inside the cleanse Of blinding-sun Lake Huron lens Where we were perfect?—that depends It's all just sand and squall
Do you still hum when night descends? I thought it was your calmness then But it's your motor panicking With the animals trapped in your wall
All the boys that you fucked over Eventually got out of Ann Arbor Honey, how come you're still stuck behind The counter?
The streets we used to take The cracking of the lake I'll never get that final point you were barely even trying to make
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