Jane 2: Electric Boogaloo

I could recognize her by the sinking in my stomach

The sinking in my stomach: an unwritable thing

In the quiet of the unwritable, the copyright office
Anxious by now, sits, waits

'Till I've translated this oversonged summer
To a single phrase: "falling through."

Falling through, as in a mirror with a ledge
Or the title of a volume of my collected regrets

Nothing punctuates letdown
Like the worn groove of a deja vu
Playing out the same situated you

I haven't put down a line in eight weeks
Where the chalky tracing of the missing girl
Didn't steal the scene
Imaginary crowds toss expensive flowers
At where her feet would be
It's so embarassing
And I'm blinded by the blank of the lit marquee

Open call for bioengineers:
If you clone this one girl I'm thinking of
I'd gladly wait the 23 years for another shot

Been in love once, but we both broke the lease date
I'd never rent a wedding ring, no matter how good the rates
Me, I want a piece of that poor forever

"What's a 3-D girl like you doing in a place like this?"
"Damn girl, whats your sign? Prozac? Nah, it's Zoloft ain't it?

"What can I do to get you behind the wheel of a long-term relationship
Today?"

"And I know the cutest little do-it-yourself divorce spot in the Mission
You know, just in case."