Stop Me if You'd Call this One Corny
'Everyone has their vices'
he said to me past the stacked
ovens and half-eaten freebies
we'd received this afternoon...
and he told me with the way I lay
I've gotta have some sort
of release.
His world of chemicals can't
understand mine;
he sees every word as everyone's
next potential lie.
This is my them:
the sweet, softest summer sighs,
the sweaty, soulful wrist-ripping sounds,
smeared ink on pages,
and mostly in your eyes
lies my release, my solution,
my reason I survive.
-Joe Decarolis
