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{the vanilla ice age} john dorsey last night a friend died quietly i used to imagine him as a bare knuckle boxer under boston streetlamps we used to smoke pot and take mushrooms at sundown in the fields of ohio today i wrap sonnets around my quivering body blankets of love a temporary rocky mountain werewolf picking daisies at the ellis island of invisible rivers where my words have always had strong teeth one day they will use carbon dating on airwalk sneakers and unearth a sacred burial ground built for the king of pop my eulogy was written in 1992 on the streets of seattle its love reached millions melting hearts at the end of the vanilla ice age what will they say when we're gone? that we recorded everything but were always better live |
