Family Reunion from Tooth Truth by The Michigan Apple Clone

There are things about me no one knows.
They are in the air that I breathe,
And the pretzel crumbs wedged in my clothes,
And my strained carotid artery.

When I sing the weight becomes a lover,
And we argue whether god is real,
And we butt our heads like roman soldiers,
And we tell each other how to feel.

She says, “death is good, but life is better
because love’s in one but not the next!
And I promise you, my manic wonder:
we will never know.”

I killed a snake when I was young.
I bashed its head with a poorly-fashioned club.
I message girls when I get sad
to sexualize all the guilt I’ve ever had.

If we will never know, at least let me know you.
There is a heaven close. Isn’t that right?
There, beneath your clothes.

Sometimes I wish I was still
a feral kid dressed for the kill,
a pair of highwater jeans out in Charlottesville,
a family reunion I stained red.

I named that sucker “Jonny” after he was dead.

• Acoustic
• Andy Shauf
• Folk
• indie
• singer-songwriter
• sufjan stevens
• Virginia