Six weeks since I�ve seen her face
I�ve just put a cigarette out in a glass of juice
I told him it was an accident, but he�s trying too hard
and my coffee tastes like a bad idea
The girls I dream about are all named Zoe
and they no longer have faces.
They were stolen and buried by nameless pirates
but I stole the map
The waitress is a victim of her own beauty
I won�t make a pass,
but I do ask for matches
so I can watch her bend over.
Any guilt evaporates in an exhalation
of blue smoke on a fork full of confidently yellow eggs
they taste better this way, I�ve been assured
That girl in the booth doesn�t look like much
She�s kinetically beautiful
break your heart with a blink
I saw her smile once, on my way to the bathroom
Got lost for days, found my way back of course
but haven�t been the same
An old man tells war stories to a slice of cherry pie
An en-tra- pa-nure yells at Germany through a cell phone filled with bubble gum
In the corner a single mother reads a Modest Proposal to a group of small children
and all the cream and sugar in the world can�t make this coffee less tasteless than a shot gun wedding between cousins.
A newly lit cigarette between my lips
I wonder how it got there
I�d go home but I�m afraid to sleep
the pirates are close to finding me out
and I like the girls better without faces