Pass the Porn

Squeak up my window
Flip down the switch
In my childhood bedroom, I can hear cars on rained down pavement
Little waves meant for me
That’s why i sleep better here
The cars and the rain
I never sleep the same as I did
While growing up near a road
Used to hang by that road
With Tom from next door
And we would pass the porn
And then the pot
And then the beer
We would throw snowballs
At cars and hide like little boys
Saw his privates in the ditch
It didn’t seem to bother me one bit
But then Cameron and I went walking there
She gave me a pretty sad, dry, cold, cracked hand job
In the woods behind my house
It’s taken me years to confront that
I’m not gay but I’m also not straight
And I don’t think that means I’m bi
But Kinsey’d have somethin' to say
And so would my binary homophobic grandma
I’m old enough now
We don’t have to pass anything
I can buy it all myself
But here gimme another drag
Of that cowboy killer
So I can feel young and confused again
Or at least young
These days I’ve fallen off the iron rod
Started chewing my tongue
It’s got a sort of iron of its own
Breaking my baby teeth
In my own head
There’s more falling out every day
It always used to be about
What I could call myself
A new name, a new direction
To point my faulty body
A new something to fill it up
Smoke and contraband
Leaking out the cracks
Teeth spilling out of my head
Like pennies or prayers
Mouth all burnt like copper
And cheap incense
I’m feeling more spacious
On the inside these days
More like, maybe I don’t
Need heavy metals, or prayers
Maybe not even smoke
Full enough on my own
Jaw straight enough
I don’t need guidance anymore
So quit pointing your finger
And gimme another cigarette