I hear ya brother
Legs all criss-crossed
Wanting to dance
Before I learn to walk
Grace is how to fall
Like you mean it

Slick with clean juices
No distinguishable source
Sticky means cleanWhen covered in honey
Weights on my chest
Lift me up.  Against a wall

All over the place, spilled.
No Reason to pretendIn the Life of a Darwinist.
Call me on the West Coast
You’ll have to leave a message
I’m busy staring at the sea.