strictly intellectual

spark a doobie & call me up to talk-

like we’re Hillary Clinton & Jim Margolis or something,

like I’m not in love with you or something,

like it’s chill.

say you feel it too or dance around it- -

but how could you give me a second look

when every supermodel and folk singer in LA

is scrawling your name in her notebook

and spell-checking before she texts you with “hey”

I guess I don’t mind.

you know I’d do anything for you

you know everybody else knows it too

just call me so we can talk about the telepathic

draw toward your spiritual other

in this labyrinth of realilty

so we could to know each other a little better,

in this bicoastal panopticon of optics & jealousy.

seems like both of us are pretty good

at dancing in a cage.

we can block out the body language,

knowing it’s theatre to be played out on stage.

spark a doobie & call me up to talk.

I’ll act like we’re Hillary Clinton & Jim Margolis or something

like I’m not in love with you or something

like it’s chill

just don’t hang up the phone.