The Manifest

You've tired of dancing.

It doesn't work
when everyone leads,
and there's no follow.

Or one dances the blues
while the other tries
to swing, or lindy, or foxtrot
or whatever.

You're like a goddamn
drunk detective
trying to decipher
children's rhymes
wedding photos
the moon's smile.

In search of...

What?

Thought -
Robert Plant?
Hercules?
The father to
the blond daughter
you meet
every now and again
in you're dreams?

Child,
you were never
special.

The waltz is
a dance from
before your
time,
boxy and awkward
on a girl
as locked as you.

You're surprised
when you get what
you ask for -

when you let
your guard down
with the help of
summer rain
roof plays
and good beer?

Girl,
you've been
had by all
that before;

the master plan,
man's tattooed hands.

Congratulations, dear,
you have finally
found love.

And lost your innocence,
your writer's smile.


Vicious.
Venomous.
Vexing.
Uncontrollable
and Inconsolable.

Everything you
never wanted to be
all because you
asked before thinking,
gave it away
without gaining -

the full story.

Woman,
you are in love
with a man
who has made you his
enemy.

You've got your own
story now.

It's a shame
that this lying in wait,
keeps you from finding
the words to keep it.

I'll help you along.

Push through
with words of
wisdom -

FORK

Woman,
Laugh at yourself.

Child,
Love yourself.

Girl,
Live with yourself.

It's all you can do.