Patricia Taxxon
la lettre
In my glass palace I can breathe
Caress the mid-sized pile of granite stones I placed beside me
In my glass palace I’m at peace
Glance across the garden air, the window shut, so help me
I have the whole world on her back
Or at least that’s how it feels when breaking headlines are my soundtrack
I see my city turning black
We grew one palace for each patron of the new class
Je suis pianiste, pas poète. J’ai désolé
Do you know what I mean? I’ll admit, I can be difficult to understand
Is anybody out there? Will anybody harken to me
I’ll let anybody sit down, sit down, If you listen carefully
Now if I said
“Pull the lace a little tighter, man”
Would you take me by the ankles with your spiderhands
And if I’m ever out of turn
Hold me down and tell me “Darling, not another word”
If I said
“I could do this for you anyday”
Would you vow to keep me docile and dependant on your say
And if I ever scream for more
Strike my body like your dad’s a fucking minotaur
The id’s forgotten how to swim
And if I dally, I fear something shall befall him
I lie in waiting, with a drink
Rose negligee, blue slippers, wine red drawers and jet black cufflinks
The ancient sky is white and bare
The light is plentiful, his blouse aflame, his skin fair
I hold my right paw in the air
I raise a padded thumb and tell the sun to get down from there
Je suis pianiste, pas poète. J’ai désolé
Do you know what I mean? I’ll admit, I can be difficult to understand
Is anybody out there? Will anybody harken to me
I’ll let anybody sit down, sit down, If you listen carefully
Now if I said
“Pull the lace a little tighter, man”
Would you take me by the ankles with your spiderhands
And if I’m ever out of turn
Hold me down and tell me “Darling, not another word”
If I said
“I could do this for you anyday”
Would you vow to keep me docile and dependant on your say
And if I ever scream for more
Strike my body like your dad’s a fucking minotaur
Is anybody out there?
Is anybody out there?