t.o.j. (excerpt) – EL-P
And you can tell that maybe time is out of joint, my love
So this is maybe just a SOS, shrapnel, an echo of dead sentiment
Measurement tossed to nothing for no one or wasted effort to shrug
Or maybe resident incurable, romantic, defunct in the face of fact
Blackboard formula erased by the next class but the outlines still intact
And I see it and I’m still not sure of the meaning
But I’ll say it, write it down and read it for you
Begin, no protective leathery flesh of emotional chain mail
No running shoes, no running, no locking doors, no anger, no e-mail
No voice mail, communicational, strangulation or distortion
Of purity sentiment, no fantasy of reconciliation or delusion
And no revenge, no bullshit, no codes or hidden agendas
No preaching, no pedestal, no standing on the pulpit
No ego, no new speaker freakish lingo
Here I go, I haven’t loved many people I grew up afraid that I was crazy
One time when I was deep inside your body, you purred
And I was sure that you were gonna have my, baby
…