AT THE ROOFTOP

The bar girl is just like me 

She forgets to be human in the moment

In the heat 

And I always get it 

It's a desert and a beach 

It's humid and dry under the wonderful goding contraceptives 

You wouldn't believe me if I told you it was raining somewhere out east

But I’d still like to order my drink and stare into the sea

Starships on the beaches 

Death flowers on the roses 

Shooting stars over the forests 

And I don't always get it, but I see the news

I’ve even seen a few from a distance 

A strange composition is only strange by the order it’s in

The way I get into the passenger seat when our conversation disappeared over the boulevard 

Seabirds and long-haired skateboards making up shadows on the stores

Pretty men from western Michigan, pretty women from Denver 

They’re all disguised by an airport 

In our apartment I’d like a dresser to fit all of my things

But I dont need any of it enough to take up the wall space

If it ever comes to it, where I need a garage, I’ll pick a religion off of the stall door

Exiting the elevator, I said to the guy waiting there 

You don't need to talk to me with my eyes on the floor 

I see god every time I spell dog backwards 

Mostly a therefore and a stutter between laughter

The bar girl is a bartender, and I wasn't anything yet and ever

Which was good

I had a name on my card 

And she had a placard

We can all be strangers 

With a name on something, so we need not remember 

We could leave our whole name like a key at the door 

And take it back up the day after