i have a hole in my shirt
and you have a hole in your skirt
i'm wiping off sweat
pondering symmetry
through the smell of a cigarette
at the entrance to my building
two girls are coloring hair
one of them stares
in too much pain to smile
i'll throw on the ice
take advil and try to be nice
when i walk the trash
alone out of season
waiting for your plane to crash
in the woods of south jersey
where i can search for your remains
your friends might say i'm stupid
but that's because they use their brains
when it rains in west philly
i crack my lips and take the cold
it may not be what it should be
but it's a place where i grow old