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)