Published: April 15, 2010

Ah, I see:
You say I’ve made a mistake.
Oh, Margaret,
Leave my regrets to me.

It’s so hip not to care,
To pour rum in my shoe,
And we savor every bit
But I’m tired of the residue.

Sipping tea in the sky with
The wine in the underground,
And they’re playing our record
But we can’t stand the sound.

Ah, I see:
You say I’ve made a mistake.
Now, Vincent,
Leave my regrets to me.

I dive a second time
And swim through heavy nights,
I sit down in my seat wheeling
Four-and-a-half hour flights.
I long embrace the dark
And cut your chicken off the bone,
But at the end of the day I find
That I am not where you call home.

Ah, I see:
You say I’ve made a mistake.
Dear Allison,
Leave my regrets to me.

The scent still rises as
I bite my nails to the quick,
And I look into your eyes when
I touch the paper to the wick.

I hide behind the couch while
I search for the latest rhyme,
And I accept that being lost
Is the most stylish paradigm.

Ah, I see:
You say I’ve made a mistake.
Oh, Worker,
Guide mine regrets to the brine.