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Bird Of Youth
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A Boy Well Dressed
There's a cynic in the washroom
Dropping hints in the basin
While the mirror plays a 4-star matinee
Left her minder in the booth outside
Sucking whiskey off his child bride
As some waitress is dropping her tray
There's a fire in her eyes tonight
Entertaining a redress
But his hand slaps her pie-eyed reverie
Before snapping all the buttons on her dress
The bareback feigns indifference
A patron's spilling catcalls
And she's listening through concrete walls
For the protests of a single petty witness
There's a girl out there
Where a woman should be
Keeping still in filthy company
Of a boy well-dressed but
Dressed up like a man
In her porcelain cell, this immaterial girl
Thinks of a soft spring night when she was sure
'til the bare, bald light brought
Claws across her skin
Behind closed doors the mistress
Holds her own hand in a vice grip
Just waiting for the next rag doll and sloppy sip
She tells herself, 'I've nothing to confess'
Marys crack like little misses
Night's end isn't gentle kisses
Just mending a tattered dress
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These are not your ordinary stitches
She smelled of sleep
As the sheets were torn
Under this shining man in uniform
Closed her eyes and thought,
'he must be asking me to dance'
How do you tell the child that
Her lover's a fighter
Or worse, she thinks,
As the hostess retires
Tell a lover that she's
Gonna have to fight
Nine birds dance in the driveway
She counts them laying sideways
A metal cot, it touched her face
A thousand different ways
It was then she thought,
One golden shot,
And this I shall replace
With visions of a marching band
The roses will cut up my hand
And this look resting on my face
Will fall down over this
Broken promise land
These fighting words are craving
New mouths to feed
And as this pen is writing
My blue face will breathe
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