A ship made of frozen tearsWhen Baby Can’t Go On

When Baby Can't Go On

Y‘know, I still remember one night real late, a single dog barking way off and Baby lying in bed next to me looking at the roof of the trailer and she takes a drag on her smoke and says: “In the post-literate culture, where cliche and aphorism take on the social importance of fable and where scandal takes on the importance of myth… the truly realized and fully actualized individual must, of necessity, be the architect of the deconstruction of her own mythos and ultimately of her own self-immolation…”

She’s quiet for a long little while while she takes another drag off the cigarette and then she says: “On some kind of level, anyway.”

When Baby Can’t Go On

When Baby can’t go on
she won’t wonder why
you open up the bottle
and go home when it’s dry
when the darkeness hits the dawn
and the ocean meets the sky
there was never in her always
and forever in her goodbye

baby lived forever
for almost thirty years
then she sailed away one day
on a ship made of frozen tears

baby had a house those days
way up the shore
we all knew that she was hiding
but no one knew what for

the last time i saw her
i knew it was her time
there was sadness in her laughter
and a long-way-off in her eyes

baby lived forever
for almost thirty years
then she sailed away one day
on a ship made of frozen tears

(C)1994, 2006 TK Major

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