Cocksucker

For Frances.

Somewhere...

Your script is written on sheets of stone;
Desperate to take the long way home:
Destined for somewhere,
Put on your black hair,
Get in your car and drive and thrive.
Get in your car and stay alive.

Kill me with your kindness, mother;
God died when I was just sixteen.
Show me the silver screen, sister;
This town leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
Fetch me a forlorn fuck, lover:
There's an itch that only a man can scratch.

So he took her to his bed and kissed her,
Took her to his bed and wept because he loved her,
Took her to his bed and promised that he missed her,
Took her to his bed and whispered that he wanted her.
Held her till the dawn broke down the door
And slid its icepick through her eyes…

Anywhere...

'I do not know Tyrone Power.
I fucked him a lot, but I do not know him.'

I opened up like a flower,
Sucked his sweet cock, but I do not know him.

Those boys may deprave you,
But God will not save you.

'Gentlemen, this meeting is over...
I don't care to sell your goddamned orange juice.'

Nowhere...

Bring me a bourbon, brother;
Those hounds are howling in my skull.
Shower me with speed, mister;
The reds and the blues and the dancing shoes.
Though I have found hope with another:
There are hurts that only women heal.

So she crept into her head and kissed her,
Crept into her head and wept because she needed her,
Crept into her head and promised that she missed her,
Crept into her head and whispered 'I remember you'.
Held her till the dawn slipped through the door
And cast its roses on her eyes.

Your script is scraped in sheets of dust;
Beauty fades and memories rust:
Flirting with nowhere,
Stick with your fair hair,
Stay on your farm and strive and thrive.
Stay on you farm and just survive...

Everywhere...

The Sound of Seattle fills your sight,
A house on a hill turns your mind to mud.

Will you ever sleep tonight?
That house on a hill breaks your heart in three.

Those boys may deprave you,
But we can still save you.

Friends and lovers, the curtain falls:
Though sense dims yet, we do not forget.

Russell J Turner - June 2010