"What's the frequency, Kenneth?" is your Benzedrine
Butterfly decal, rear-view mirror, dogging the scene
You smile like the cartoon, tooth for a tooth
You said that irony was the shackles of youth
You wore a shirt of violent green
I never understood the frequency
You wore our expectations like an armored suit
I couldn't understand
You said that irony was the shackles of youth
I couldn't understand
You wore a shirt of violent green
I couldn't understand
I never understood, don't fuck with me
I'd like to know what the sign is that I should be looking for when I wake up with a song stuck in my head every day for weeks on end. A song I haven't heard in twelve years.
Life can be strange.
Life is good, too. Love is grand and Jacob is feeling better this morning, trading in his feverish chattering for a drawn and weary face this morning when I brought breakfast up for him. His fever broke sometime around 2 am with a whole litany of incoherent ramblings and I had to get up and pull him back onto the bed because he was half on the floor and he pulled me back into his arms because he wasn't burning hot for once and he kissed my ear and slid his hand down between my thighs and promptly fell asleep again. I think I pulled something. He weighs eighty pounds more than I do.
Happy New Year indeed. There's absolutely nothing better right now than sipping a hot cup of coffee and watching a giant hunk of a guy walk around the house in his waffleweave long johns. We keep smiling at each other like stupid fools.
And I'd kiss him but he keeps sneezing. He did warn me once that he has a lot more snot than I do. And you know something? He really wasn't kidding.
