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Little Henrietta |
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From the discount hair salon |
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I invented you to come undo |
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The torture I've been thrust upon |
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I'm a rolling pin |
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A half-deflated soccer ball |
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Left to brittle in the yard |
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In the spittle of the broken fall |
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I'm the scared aggression |
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Of a little dusk dog's bark |
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Middling and piddling |
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In the safety of the dark |
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Pontiac's been tainted |
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Rochester is done |
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Chipped toenails are painted |
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By the blacked-out friend that was |
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The carsick sun |
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But little Henrietta's from the same township as me |
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So natively she knows about |
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The coughing memory |
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Now everything I see is full of |
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Coffee |
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And the lofty little |
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Hope of love |
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Every day for you my |
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Lovely little one |
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Scratch your back and never slack |
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Or back away from our first day of profuse dripping sun |
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Darling |
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Some chipped-tooth baby doll I had |
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Stung me like that day |
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That I rode my bike into a wasp |
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Then Pizza Hut to wash away |
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All that stinging cruelty |
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You'll understand, I pray |
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The future is a creature that |
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Can only hope to lick the love |
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Its tongue tastes of today |
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But little Henrietta and the pillows on her bed |
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Where really we just kill |
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The memory that won't stay dead |
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With a tendency for spilling silly |
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Coffee |
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And the lofty little |
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Hope of love |
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Every day for you my |
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Lovely little one |
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There are three blades in my back |
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But two of them are yours to track |
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And see where they've begun |
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Darling |
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Little Henrietta |
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I have had three wives |
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You're my only ghost |
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The organs I have lost control of |
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The roll of film I can't dispose of |
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How your memory survives |
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Like communion host |
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Or floating with the burnt toast |
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That was coasting in my grandpa's daily |
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Coffee |
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And the lofty little |
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Hope of love |
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Every day for you my |
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Lovely little one |
