Black Net - Desperate Journalist

You phone inanimate homes, they’re waiting there for you

In your car without a driver

Blank tanks are barrelling up the lawn and crashing into

The screen doors as you hide there

As the attic grins wide, a rustling from the flowerbed

The creature stalks to find you

Eyes bright, like lovers, like death, in the shadow of its head

Oh the tingling inside you

And against the wheeling blue sky

A lovely black net

And against the wheeling blue sky

A lovely black net

The sound of dizzying cries from schoolyards down the way

Oh a paper faded pale

Remember stumbling over words on guilty days

Oh the hidden sweet exhale

The dark omniscience of the figure in the driveway

As you dive beneath the linen

Swept down to cover her mouth that made you come alive

Oh the secret limbs beginning

And against the wheeling blue sky

A lovely black net

And against the wheeling blue sky

A lovely black net