called “heaven” by the talking heads

speeding around Dead Man’s Curb air picking a fake rosary 91.1 college radio how do you kids pray leave it to me to fuckup a Talking Heads lyric’s true intent but you know how it is at 540 a.m. gulls asleep on the Rock Hall glass pyramid and the sky wakes up dyed whale skin and blood orange black clouds propped thin then laid down like a knocked over picket fence gate to heaven and joey just died of melanoma he willed you his wax you want meaning for when Byrne sings the line heaven is a party the waves crash into the 55th pier but that’s just what waves do.

 

Post Photo by: Joe Lord

Ryan Rowland

Ryan Rowland (he/his) is a writer from Cleveland, Ohio. His work has been featured recently in Red Door Magazine, Heavy Feather Review, and Ornery Quarterly. He is a founding member of Good Word Cleveland, a collective of emerging writers.

Previous
Previous

Celestial Scrapbook

Next
Next

More Funyuns than Kisses