we stopped for coffee in the Redwood forest
giant dripping leaves, spoons of powdered cream
I wanted to kiss you but I wasn't sure how
like those indians, lost in the rainforest
forced to drag burning wood wherever they went
they had all forgotten how to start a fire

this is why people OD on pillsand jump from the Golden Gate Bridge
anything to feel weightless again

those poor lost indians when the white man found them
most died of TB, the rest went insane
in our motel room, you're drinking Slice and gin
reading Moby [bad word] on the other bed
remember the first time we slept together
you said it felt like when you learned to float

this is why people OD on pillsand jump from the Golden Gate Bridge
anything to feel weightless again