DIRTY LETTERS

(Timothy Brickley & David Rheins)

Stupid mail still comes addressed to you.

Should I return to sender or throw away?

Junk and letters from out of touch friends.

Don't they know how long it's been?

Six months, a year or more,

stray panties and half-used cologne.

I pause when I see those picture people,

staring, smiling, in their dusty jacket home.

    Your Victoria's Secret catalog

    and monthly copy of Elle.

    My retro jacket and your London Fog.

    Sometimes life's a living hell.

She was nervous.

A cat near water.

I am wet.

A hole in autumn.

Mementos and old paperbacks.

What more could I say?

We never talked much, you and I.

Guess I'll throw your shit away

                                                   Copyright 1989, Timothy Brickley & David Rheins

Jeff Chapin: drums.

Bill Moss: bass.

TB: acoustic guitar/vox.