Mountain Goats, The. Broom People. Zeneszám

'36 Hudson in the garage

All sorts of junk in the unattached spare room.

Dishes in the kitchen sink

New straw for the old broom.

Friends who don't have a clue

Well meaning teachers

But down in your arms, in your arms

I am a wild creature.



Floor two foot high with newspapers

White carpet thick with cat hair

Half eaten gallons of ice cream in the freezer

Fresh fuel for the sodium flares

I write down good reasons to freeze to death

In my spiral-ring notebook

But in the long tresses of your hair

I am a babbling brook