Mobile

Mobile

A Poem by Criss Jami

Why'd I hide it
Yeah that kind of riot
When you sigh and the silence shrieks louder than verbs and
And the direction the affection takes then
Pressures the perfectionist in-
To layman's ways of saying "let's be friends"

So the road is fired up though you know the tire's cut
And the stereo it plays "here we go"
It makes eerie tones
They come oh straight from
A joke even though
That's a story baby we both really know

Oh we're stop and go to gamble
And at lights hear advice
The rambles from a manhole

But let's not forget the device
It's mobile but not handheld
No the heart it doesn't crash oh before it gets trampled

The temple table's overturned
Turns out we're late
'Cause the clover caught aflame baby we waited so it burned
But that's okay
You say the gamble ex-changes it
It makes the coins get weightless and
And turns the green into an urn

Oh we're stop and go to gamble
And at lights hear advice
The rambles from a manhole

But let's not forget the device
It's mobile but not handheld
No the heart it doesn't crash oh before it gets trampled
No the heart it doesn't crash oh before it gets trampled

© 2012 Criss Jami


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Added on August 16, 2012
Last Updated on August 25, 2012
Tags: criss jami, mobile, relationships, gambling, driving, the joker, devices, metaphorical, lights

Author

Criss Jami
Criss Jami

DC



About
American philosopher, songwriter, essayist, and vocalist at Crymson Gryphon. more..

Writing