Before I knew how to talk
Before I knew how to read
Before I knew how to speak

Before I knew about jazz
Before I knew about alcohol


There was something inside of me
Moving around in the fleshy places
Succeeding I imagine

To gain traction

The boiling anger that led me here

Tears me to shreds
Like legal paper
That old sentimental jealousy


What's done is done, and Shawn will die.
And everyone too.

But you and I alone at last
Can fight the poetry of modern romance.


Can we too? When?