BEFORE THE SLEEPING PILLS

wasn't abt the words
the floors or flood of stone
the year i was
sailing
your tower is so tall
can you see me in my boat
trapped in Nebraska
i don't own an ax
where can i find
more buffalo gals?
won't i just blame the gin
if i say what i feel
you don't
owe me an ear
turn at the right moment
i can walk into the ocean
i can never want
the yellow star
to sober me
to make me grow fruits
to smile at a wall