THE BERG QUARTET EP I

On Dani Compose

Sharp Violins

The lights go out, the pants go down
The oblique sounds of kissing mouths
Those coyish hands about the town
You’re pissing out a mild crown

He wants your face on every way
He’s got your hair he wants to play
She’s got you all up on her teeth
She’ll drop a bomb if you make her sneeze

There’s a lust for treasure up and down her knees
An archaic measure of how he wants to please
A powerful scream like five clowns in threes
As natural as soil- his clouds, her trees

We Miss You

Sickle cell circus, fuck your boss
It’s a trillion hogs gone motocross
I miss steam and communists
I miss Chris Farley throwing fits

I miss hats as tall as arms
I miss China’s Human Farms
Submarines made out of coal
Lizard men playing xylophones

But robots always just get better
Devices that control the weather
Everything’s driven with hugeish wheels
Everything’s paid with salt and pepper

Ships Having Angry

Some photos of shoes- picture of a vest
Aplenty white eggs and an empty nest
So much burning paper and a treble clef
Fuck your birth, your death; I just want the rest

Well he wanted that sex but he had no cash
And he had no jokes, but he had that mask
And he had those straps to get in up them fast
He just wanted the payoff, didn’t want the math

Fistful of bullets and pockets full of no gun
Failured lovers, and ways to clone them
Larger portioning, summer snowmen
He sees better men and he wants to know them