listening to some hawiian cover of

"nothing compares to you"

(1990, Sinead O' Connor cover)

i remember some things that sting my eyes

and how some stuckup liberal arts prof thought

we were the best photo he'd seen

and how when you get cranberry and vodka in your

blood you always sing 

that song by the Animals at the top

of your ever living guts and how

you looked in my weird coat of 

homeless colors that night when 

you wrestled my fist and claimed it

was all a metaphor