Jon James Is Dead

Music // Clutching At Straws (2019)

Ms. Skittish

Jon James Is Dead
J.J. Benson


I took the doom train downtown to where the land fell off
It was a free fall, taller than a single bound
Lower than the lowest low of the black and bluest hole
My cape tangled on the flagpole
Hung me in my underwear

What’s under there
And why do you hide your heart?
Was it a mood swing?
Was it contact sport?
Was it a fling?
Was it the ring that cut it short?
We had a sweet thing, though, didn’t we, Ms. Skittish?

I took her yellow belly uptown—I threw the cab fare down
She was a five-foot-nine tall drink o’ runaround
And I was nothin’ but her teddy bear
Plush and sleazy

Tenderloins and the hip joints are where the pain sets in
It’s all a meat trade
But cleaned for the supermarket
Bolt shock
Bones to the stock
Sayonara to the hands of the clock
I held you up as a sacred cow
And you kicked me

Lingerie that Saturday
Then I was out on my crown in the cold
I was a good king
Brought her everything
Suffered the sting

We had a sweet thing, you dirty R.A.T.