Bricks and broken porcelain
Cut my back where she pushed me to the ground
In the alley there was no other sound
Except our screams
*
“What the hell is that?” she asked.
“It’s the chorus,” I said, “of my pretend punk song, ‘Midnight Flowers.’”
“Pretend punk?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I have a pretend punk band called, Bag Full Of Dead Rats. ‘Midnight Flowers’ is the love song off our pretend album, ‘Pissing In The Alley.’”
“Pissing In The Alley’?” she asked.
“Well, that’s the A-side,” I said. “It’s a five song suite. The B-side is a five song suite called, ‘Kissing In The Alley.’ It’s social commentary, see? Because kissing rhymes with pissing and they’re both things that everybody does but one is considered romantic and the other isn’t.”
“A punk album with suites of songs?” she asked.
“You want to go out in the alley,” I asked, “and copulate?”
She giggled and put her hand over her mouth. She turned away, cleared her expression and turned back to me. She pointed at me and said, “You know what? I am not going to let you drink anymore Red Bull. Enough is enough. Enough is more than enough.”
She turned away and walked toward the kitchen.
I just sneered at her back. It was my pretend Billy Idol sneer.
Cut my back where she pushed me to the ground
In the alley there was no other sound
Except our screams
*
“What the hell is that?” she asked.
“It’s the chorus,” I said, “of my pretend punk song, ‘Midnight Flowers.’”
“Pretend punk?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I have a pretend punk band called, Bag Full Of Dead Rats. ‘Midnight Flowers’ is the love song off our pretend album, ‘Pissing In The Alley.’”
“Pissing In The Alley’?” she asked.
“Well, that’s the A-side,” I said. “It’s a five song suite. The B-side is a five song suite called, ‘Kissing In The Alley.’ It’s social commentary, see? Because kissing rhymes with pissing and they’re both things that everybody does but one is considered romantic and the other isn’t.”
“A punk album with suites of songs?” she asked.
“You want to go out in the alley,” I asked, “and copulate?”
She giggled and put her hand over her mouth. She turned away, cleared her expression and turned back to me. She pointed at me and said, “You know what? I am not going to let you drink anymore Red Bull. Enough is enough. Enough is more than enough.”
She turned away and walked toward the kitchen.
I just sneered at her back. It was my pretend Billy Idol sneer.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Five Songs: #3 – Shadows
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