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Seven Mary Three Orange Ave. Joliet "Joliet," she says, "is the darkest part of a man…" It's angry and slick Into her letters writes through herself each time she thinks of him Trips her way down south into mystery's mouth and he follows her there It's what she doesn't say that makes you want to stay and try to comfort her I talked to the cousins of people who knew you I asked them the questions they expected to hear Like maybe a killing went down in your town Maybe it's the prison or the birth of barbed wire "Joliet," she says, "is the darkest part of a man…" It's shaped like liberty's bell cracked and common law and stretched out over its flaws like an ink-less well The hanging judge in town records her comments down she saves the crowd the truth - and deals with it herself Fills that hollow well with nothing left to prove I talked to mountains and streams that pushed through there I talked to the trees that had no fruit to bear to the colorless people that sat there beneath her curled up, stared I talked to the cousins of people who knew you I asked them the questions they expected to hear Like maybe a killing went down in your town Maybe it's the prison or the birth of barbed wire Joliet |
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