Golden locks
Dripping, melting out of me
Golden showers
The waste products of the body:
Hair and fingernail
We sit in a worn tea room drinking worn tea
Chipped china, chipped china
“You just need to get laid” he says,
“Your eyes look dull, and the hair lifeless and torn”
My heart break, my hearts breaks and my mouth breaks
And opens like a clam.
I say nothing but this is the day when pearls start growing
Underneath my fingernails, like under ice. Frozen
I can almost hear something
And in the night my hair slowly melts to piss:
Slowly, lock by lock,
A golden shower
The body remembers:
In a distant memory,
I have hair all the way down to the ground
Probably because I’m lying on the bathroom floor.
But I imagine it is fastened there,
To the floor boards
And I think to myself:
“This is where is come from?”
The floor is old:
Wooden, old, worn,
All the walls creaking in the wind
Let’s steer this ship home
Golden showers, on a sea of
Golden showers.