Traffic

I was going door to door
selling encyclopaedias
like a Witness

He insisted I come in            forget my faith
and talk about Traffic's first LP

We agreed the whole album reeked of dope
and then he wondered if I was interested
in a human skull            he kept in the garage

Next his wife came back
like a warden
Time to settle down
raise a family
She patted me on the head
Sent me on my way


~ ~ ~


I'm Not Sure What This Is

Stuck at your table
to listen
your drunken lines
wear me down
no rest
listen

It's not much of a dance
to wait
to feel
the sadness
go



~ ~ ~