Soft.
Caressing.
Messing with my grunge.
Hard edged music has no place
surfaced in flannel.
But I love
the warmth;
the comfort, but something’s not
right!
I stay up half the night
writing songs. Is it wrong to
fill
“Love songs” with bitter angst,
while
plaid and staid flannel is
against my skin?
How can I win? Find nirvana?
Do I wanna? Can Cobain be
channeled
sans the flannel? I can’t tell
but it sure smells like it!
© JPW – 2013
You grinned all the way through writing this, didn't you? I like the way these lines read,
ReplyDeleteHard edged music has no place
surfaced in flannel.
Something about using surface as the verb. You leave me with a grin.
It is contagious and the best medicine... so, to your health! :D
DeleteLOVE this! We went the same directions, sorta. ;)
ReplyDeleteThank you, De. Can't think flannel without thinking the great northwest and Seattle grunge.
Delete