Broke - Modest Mouse - Washington


Broke by Modest Mouse on Grooveshark

Notes Poem Form:

I dialect I did not know you spoke
hung with rope for minds to grope
A long hand pounds and fat gestures
I often love to be the jestures
pepper speckled cheshire
smiling at your feet
the mechanical tweet of love birds wound taught
caught in the metal lattice
with only each others shoulders to inhabit
purples and pinks hint gurdles and winks
purrrrr goes my linx or any creature i can think
my animal rarely thinks
it feels it’s ways on all fours
through word tunnels
i pour saliva spit
caught in cups
to prevent the sick 
from the sicker
tick goes my flicker
warning me of fleeting options to flee
climbing tall acacia trees
saw in hand
i cut the pretend with pretense
down the same road i know so well 
hell no
i skip to moss covered boulders 
shoulder the weight of being lost but being closer
to my soul
At times i’d do anything i was told
shutter under the slaps of newspaper folds
drink the wine of yuppies
call me puppy
soft and reactive, as if made of flexed up plastic
captured magic in topaz mansions
this tastes like love to me
brought in by teaspoon from by field bee
feel me with your feet or whatever
i’m imagining us in a different world altogether
A fort constructed from pine and horse hair
woven with realized ideas and the steady beat of womb feet
Fuck the little pooch
i’d rather be a dragon
burning rose petaled wagons
that carry ego-less captains
smug in gold leafed cabins
Lets not get trapped in
The tracks of happiness and laughin
Some times i can’t explain why I squeeze your hand
thats what make me real man
or turns real men into furniture
decorating rooms with their presents
I learned from her and burn to find cures
Default to your turn and tit snoring
while mine minds pour concrete
around the base of meek lemon trees
The knowledge for me has always been in the leaves
I think you may know what i mean
more more more
when when when 
how far can I bend?
Spaghetti cracks snap me backs to thoughts of the presents
your too powerful to waste any time with:
Just say yes and relax in the back of hawain pick up truck beds
I have graveyards where my ideas come to die
heavy with the weight of waterless existence
collapsing in heaps that form the stepping stones of my speech
Until I fall on wooden knees and beg for one to breath
Maybe we can help eachother recesitate our beasts
Before they fall and rot on the ground beneath
Your soul is engrained anyways 
into the pace of my day
and what i dream of doing
I hope some of it comes true
but thats never led to action
I need to be forced to craft them
shapping muzzles and snouts before they collapse
like the puppy pissing on my lap
Let’s swim laps?
but not discuss it untill we’ve done it.