down on the knuckle
decemberists, the
avery said he's got a cold coming on
if i don't come out too soon
maybe i'll hang on till june
sylvia knows a little hideaway
scrawling out prose she couldn't give away
isn't that what doors are for?
your relatives write their cheery monologues
hoping you might find your only analogue
of the mandatory things you've missed
stuck here on the knuckle
the pillory's full for the holidays
and it's achingly dull to watch the paint peel away
so i'll keep hid with mine
and i'm sure that we'll make out just fine
stuck here on the knuckle