I've written fifty pieces on
the forty-nine before that
and the fiftieth was careful introspection
on its own damn words
Twelve posters to a tube
Minus two for an even ten
Switching out the CD in my alarm clock
'cause I can't do much better

I'd offend you if I tried
And I'm not trying to commend
Stafford Loans for going home
When I don't want to leave yet
I heard that if you drop a pile of particles they naturally cluster near each other
Like nature loves community if there's a nature at all
The shit on my desk ain't worth my second nature at all

My favorite song at seventeen was a reassuring peer from the past
When we live in a video we get a throbbing migraine from staring at the past
My opportunity sort of passed
I picked you last

Frisbee ain't the sport for me
Rather sitting at home teaching myself to dance
I'm overrated in several circles
I'm overhyped by a few

You see love as an object rather than a concept
You can hold it in your hand and melt it down for scrap
You can buy me love if you can find someone to sell it
The buyers know they're waiting in line
The return line

I'd commend you if I tried
And I'm not trying to depend
Motorboats for going home
When I just don't need to leave yet
So if you drop a pile of marbles they naturally cluster near each other
That's just fucking amazing
I'm so fucking amazing, myself

Seventeen is the age when you don't
Eighteen is the age when you don't
Twenty, Twentyfive
Thirty, Thirtyfive
Forty Fifty Sixty
Sixtyfive, don't have to give a shit
Stumble and mumble for my lost, lost muse.

Dear Cre:
I can barely remember how I wrote for you, but it's bygone.
Muse or mentor, somewhere in between.

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