coming out like cranks from a chest

and now,
this closing door,
i'm coming out like cranks from a chest
one cool clean sheet left on bedstands
a low lying gestalt of cursed days
but i'm coming out like cranks from a chest
smiling wide like lions from dens

(these lionesses who have eatten days from me)

coming on strong like
whisky not snowflakes, a few good friends who try
a marching band that laughs you loud
and hard, calibred like guns
this strange storybook past sometimes of mine
holds me down (though a wind blows through
and now, calm and storm at once
i'm coming out like a cranks from chests
these days to come wreak havoc
on my insides, one world way and
coming down coming out, a fire from a gun
taking over

in some strange way, however in control i was before.

2004-09-06 | 8:59 p.m.
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