what are you?
what do you want from me
or what do i want from you?
will you haunt me like these street spirits
these little snow ghosts
that weave between my tires
do you inspire me?
i wish i could get into your skin
sleep soft in your grey womb
buses and snowstorms swell in utero
but i still pull right and watch you dip
under a horizon
you don't mar the sky
but you don't decimate me either
you are not the sublime monument of mount ranier
a whispering stranger behind the fog
but now rock is replaced by gloss
rock is replaced by gloss
rock is replaced by gloss
is this what you're telling me
minneapolis
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