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  • There's a couple blue lightening bugs
    That circle in the place I take
    Gulps of breath
    I think it's trying to sink in
    To become part of my teeth

    Not a stain that lingers on
    With nicotine stains or coffee

    Just an illuminated palm frond from
    Fangs to gums
    And then on the dents of lips
    God he feels like mistakes passing on

    I don't bleach out the flakes of his wings
    Caught up where I chew and chew and chew
    With the gun powder of what I know to be better ideas
    So then spit him out
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