Dandelion antipathy
on the bus, weaving traffic patterns, light reflections all around our sorrow
we escaped into this conversation
based in new militia, my cult status growing stale, impending marriage
that was tomorrow
and then your parents took my wings apart and set them in the window
like dandelion seeds they flew into my shameful meadow
translucence giving out those details when confidence fell silent
it was 1975, those invitations to the party
all dressed in red and black, and starting up discussion groups on socialism
all i wanted was to know you, hold you somewhat at my level
take your ivory tower down and take another bus to another town
reinvent that conversation and your head upon my shoulder
we were children who so smugly knew much better what the world should have to offer
then the war broke out, i saw you several evenings in a room
upon that arm of that known quantity, the poison you held out to me
our cups were never empty, letters written then not sent, a dandelion antipathy
cops and robbers, sons and daughters, boys and angels, jewish fables
mercenaries, januaries, apple blossoms, all are gone and not forgotten
it was your name that drew me in as much as anything
the darkest eyes i'd ever seen and so intelligent
more than winter wheat in towers, steel construction for the flowers
bellicose and never stumbling, at the restaurant our fumbling words and touching fingers
mirrored all those noises that your father made behind his perfect glasses
nothing more to say, it was an era we both flew to pieces
where you used to be i know i was and now the present tense
is so relaxed and there is nothing but the letters and the saxophone
your overseas excursions and the millionth night alone
and what a field of stars to walk through
(basic tracks recorded August 6, 2009)