Gross Paradise

Lazy in red

Drinks the ocean

It's all in her head

Look, a soft light

We'll watch

The kids grow in a gross paradise

Nothing is there

nothing gets hurt here

We're so far away

From the dust and machine

Whose blood would cast nuisance

On our style of life

A typical morning

Throw my stones

and stretch my boredom

Lying awake

And touching me

In that low black overcast

Modern cul-de-sac

I can be rosy

I can be safe

I can be hopeful

I can be late