Like Bugs

Some days I feel like I'm sitting in a city alley
catching flies on my tongue
tapping my foot to an old song
trying to drown out a nagging thought
that's buzzing around my head like flies

      and I wish I could sense danger
            like an animal
                  and run like anger
                        when a bottle becomes a blanket

I have a Marc Bolan fear of cars
of anything too futile and metallic
that could drive me to my grave
of porcelain boys who'll break me
in a clumsy attempt to keep themselves unscathed

      and I wish I could sense danger
            like an animal
                  and run like anger
                        when a bottle becomes a blanket

I wonder why a thing like God is strange to me
I wouldn't know it if I tripped over it
and I wish that I would
that I could
catch it on my tongue
like a bug