Conor Meads

a porch swing
built for two
is broken down
from years of use
ill swing on it
for now with you
but love is real
only when new
we hold on for dear life
while paint cracks off the sides
nails strain, hips slide
and hearts drift out of time
an audience of indifference
patiently is waiting for their song
but when you start the mic at your mouth
begins to look more like a gun
traded in a life on porch swings
to flail my arms and bare teeth when i sing
i’ve finally learned to play ’the entertainer’
but i still hate that melody
if this is all i’ll ever be, swing with me
this sermon, this homily
it shall be about beliefs
and lost friends
and a lost love
and how to live
with the above
with a bad taste in your mouth
but you can’t spit it out
so swallow down
and feed the butterflies that won’t come out.
an audience of indifference
could not care less
there is no sophmore slump
when all your head poured out
was not enough to sell the first one
so i'll revise and compromise
the art in mind the only thing i love
then write this song this disclaimer
to save face from my friends back home