Michael - Red House Painters

somehow in my excitement the last time you called,

it slipped again to ask your hidden whereabouts

i got a lead from your old triple ex-girlfriend, she said

«i heard he lost his mind again»

«again?"i said

i didn’t know that you ever did

michael, where are you now?

sleeping through the morning in flannel impaired

getting high in southern air

shoeless, sandy eveing down the unfamiliar

last whiff of salt-water freedom

skipping shells in the dead zone

with the ghost on your side

of the state borderline

whispering

«take it.. .»

do you remember our first subway ride?

our first heavy metal haircuts?

our last swim on the east coast?

and me with my ridiculous looking pierced nose?

i remember your warm smile in the sun

the daydreaming boy without a shirt on the birmingham barfly father

left the mother of three sons

you’re the oldest juvenile delinquent bum

my best friend