Today, the smithereens
and Kentucky memories
make the broken glass young,
and love a little fun (again),
shaking like a sonofabitch,
which makes me feel
like an electric idiot with dry water,
and then I skin my shoulder,
falling for another,
making things today much, much worse,
but I got a book in the mail today,
and a package in the summer is better
than a package in the snow,
because it is bigger,
and of better use.