candy from the street

inside your left ear
you only hear what you want to hear
and in a hundred other places
there are a half dozen other people you want to be
some part of our times, some part of history
i used to think you were such a fine mystery
when your face was hard and lovely
but i'm a Sunday driver in my own little corner of the room
a brash young man from the country side of the moon
where the news is eaten cold and dry:
i searched without success for the bottom of your eye
from the comfort of my easy chair
i started from the absolute top and couldn't find it there
no person in the world would have that much more to spare
i threw confetti everywhere!
what a difference between a Champion and an also-ran
i picked up candy from the street with the passing of the band
and found little glances i was never able to understand
one, a heart so milked of compassion
it had no need for immeasurable passion:
now you only want to sip and taste!
but i am the detective on this case
and anything less than a big bite becomes an interesting waste.
inside your left ear
you only hear what you want to hear