at the cresting of the song, i understand that i want to fly apart
fling my heart and lungs to corners far from each other
asunder/akimbo from myself
my organs losing their context and my brain melting into the pavement
what a hope!

to realize one isn't twenty any more
and certain things are not so charming
(spliffed-up tumbles down the stairs, tantrums over taxes)
that is one thing
but to know that one wants to live charmed forever anyway
well
what do you say to that, doctor?
doesn't that leave us at odds with our own bodies, aren't we going to find everything frightfully inadequate, right down to our bones, and aren't we going to tear and tear and tear at our hair until it all falls out and won't we dance until our kneecaps come loose and won't we always be aching?

still, yes, i think i'd rather be in pieces
find me in the gutter
in the old box spring
in the hedge row
a hilarious, polka-dotted fragment
one must be so serious to be a whole thing
and i would rather
laugh and laugh and laugh