Tag Archives: Joni Mitchell

Music Methadone

No response.  Crank it to 11.
. . .   . . .   . . .   . . .
We’ve got mental rhythm.
Patient’s showing signs of reality fatigue.
Push 60 megs of audio,
STAT.  Mute the Baker Street sirens
and the paradise traffic report.
Force a little less conversation,
a little more time to stall.
She’s too soft-spoken
that broken jaw.
e’s drenched in purple rain.
She’s past the po
int of begging
for a hit of novocaine.  Order a trans-
of cigarettes and cheap perfume.
Let her melt into the bars
non-intrusive tunes.
when she’s stable,
her off.
Send her back to reality,
yeah, where there’s
ake her manage raw soundwaves
our metronome.

I’ve Got a Feeling

When you gonna wake up, baby?  C’mon,
play that funky Dixie land, pretty mama,
come and take me by the hand.  I wanna hold your hand.
Last night I heard the screen door slam—
I can’t even rewind the tape machine to hear
your drunken reasoning; it sounded thin
upon listening.  Sure, I can accept that
we’re going nowhere, but one last time let’s go there,
even if we’re just dancing in the dark.  This night’s
the perfect shade of dark blue.  Rain falls
angry on a tin roof.  Freeze-dried amends,
scalding insinuations.  We sure are cute
for two ugly people.  Put your hand
between this aching head and this aching world.
We’ll make them so jealous, we’ll make them hate us.
By the way, I’m trying to say I’ll be there, I’ll keep you
my dirty little secret.  Can I be your memory?
I’m hanging by a moment here with you.  It’s been
one week since you looked at me.  Baby,
you need to come home.  Can’t you see?