dear old buddy who i never really liked,

you look like a penis in those sunglasses,

i dont care if you're in bermuda, bermuda is not an excuse,

for a while i thought you had died or

gotten into a really committed relationship

i hear you got a job and shit

its good to catch up and i am

glad that you made your baby daughter a facebook

yes i will add her as a friend

what if my hometown was incinerated?

when i go home, i can hear my parents

fighting downstairs

i thought they were too old for that stuff

dickin around

going home is unfair,

it catches you off guard

and lays it on you

just like high school did

ever feel like you're too old

to hear your mom cryin?

the kids from groveland came through

attacked the ball game on ATVs

circled around to see what they would do

kids in baseball hats were cradled by

dads who were, at that moment, moms

and ruddy, raising defensive shouts about

older sons in the marines,

who hid under cots in the barracks

24 hours of small arms fire

24 hours in country before

they see fit to issue your weapon

in america i get teary looking at the pussy willows

and buy three lemons for my mom at the store

ungainly, expansive love;

ballooning, while i eat ice cream

by the window, its red white and cookies

some days you notice the trees, others you dont,

my full of wrath, the small items that

i cannot see, inching on the lawn

you fill me up in my very heart

the gold codes, the golden phone,

mr. president had the hiccups

while he was sending in the nukes