When I’m twenty-two when it’s two-thousand-four when you’re twenty-four meet me Big Sur
you dress in denim from your neck to your knees you turn your back to the bossy bossy breeze a plane goes by silenced by hiss of rip-tide sea salty-watering me
when I’m twenty-six when it’s two-thousand-eight when you’re twenty-eight meet me Montana
it’s a gonna be a sweet the-end or a no, no it’s too, too late or a my, my, my oh! how I’ve missed the way your way makes me make me me
sometimes the leaves succulently sometimes the leaves poisoning sometimes they go from green to gone