Thursday, November 13, 2008

Waiting Room / Flashbacks

We were sitting on a bus full of children.
I was drawing pictures of rocket ships.

I was climbing the powerlines outside your window.
There was a radio playing in the background.

Your father was a fat Southerner with blue overalls and a moustache.
Your mother was a black Georgia soul singer with friends who loved to cook.

I woke up in your house, your mother was whispering to me.
I could just make out your face through the crack in the doorway.

6 comments:

imbrilliant said...

"I was climbing the powerlines outside your window."

Oh man, I like.

Anonymous said...

who are you?

my perception of god?
yeah, that sounds about right.

grinning mouths said...

I wanted to hold the radio above my head, but she lived on the second floor. Have you ever tried climbing powerlines with a radio? What a pisser.

You, my dear, are God.
And I am the pain you feel.

imbrilliant said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
imbrilliant said...

"I'm outside of your
window, with my radio."

Hawthorne Heights, come
one. Now who's emo, darling. ;]

grinning mouths said...

I don't need your friends,
I've got my own . . .

*breaks out shotgun*