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The Mother of All Interludes

from Can't Date a Flannel Dilettante by Jeremy Vagrant

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lyrics

On the curb like a dumb lovesick shaved poodle and I'm not having any fun at all. I'm a transparent grandparent, and my father was a trans parent, and he raised an ungrateful Ziploc bag of flour. Well I'm a twenty-one-year old man with the physique of an eleven-year old girl, and the emotional intelligence of a wooden three-legged chair. They call me Chip cause I've got a chip on my shoulder. I'm a tick off the old clock. People look at me funny on account of my vacant stare, I'd like to take you down to Texas, I'll propose to you there. But I'm not talking about marriage, so don't get your organs in a twist. I've remembered how to cry recently, and I didn't miss it for a second. No release to speak of, no glass of orange juice in the morning to remind me that things can go bad at any time. Cause they won't. Optimism tastes weird. For many years, I felt compelled to dangle from rooftop balconies and ceiling fans where the sharks couldn't get me, fighting the urge to let go and see if I could hear a cartoon splat sound when I hit the ground. Hit the deck, a cassette deck for first place. But the sharks weren't ever interested, and I think they're still not. I made a fresh plate of shark fins, get 'em while they're — cold.

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from Can't Date a Flannel Dilettante, released December 3, 2017

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Jeremy Vagrant College Park, Maryland

Bum dropout, preemptive surname, shallots, scamps, jubilee

Formerly of Malaise. I write and record stories and things like that

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