If God wills this time tomorrow, bound for Boise via plane
(willful mispronunciation of my destination’s name)
I’d like to write a sequel to “the State That I am in” [sic]
If God wills this time tomorrow in the early morning rain
I’ll unpack the boots I borrowed and turn back the way I came
I’d like to write a sequel to “the State I am in”
And I’d like to call the song New Wine, New Skins
“God’s will” or “come what fortune gives”---
Or is this truly how you’d choose to live:
Managing the narrative?
Come, unfastening android limbs
In the moonlight through translucent skin
Now we’ve both been there and back again
To the state that I’m no longer in
With carbon fiber lips whereby
Came thought reflex personified
Now a scorpion in the sky, harmless as a butterfly
SCORPION [a Smiths fan]: You can pin and mount me likewise!
If you fail first, some warm, bright day
I’ll unperform at your unmarked grave
And you can tell me what those eyes have seen
But for now the Creek-don’t-rise routine
With churning engine, fix my head
Up north in the Gold Fork riverbed
From the misuse of intelligence
And all I wish I’d said pours out
New wine, new skins
“God’s will” or “come what fortune gives”
Or is this truly how you’d choose to live?
