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letra de stone fruit steve austin - kirsten opstad

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there’s a postcard with a family full of characters
posing with smiles that never break
can you smell the sunscreen and plastic?
does it matter if it’s real or fake?

here’s a snapshot of ass masked in fishnets
flashing an apartment in the dark
can you see the beard past the latex?
does it matter if it’s sm-t or art?

mom threw out your memories
mom throughout your memories

there’s a license plate of some uncertain vanity
that probably looked this old when it was new
characters arranged with intention
is any one interpretation true?

there’s a stone fruit at the center of a memory
in a kitchen with a man we didn’t like
i learn to drive on a midnight highway
i learn which stories are impolite

pits thrown out the window
spit pits out the window
i am rich in character-building relationships
magnets for the fridge

i am rich in souvenir spoons and make up kits
kept to not forget

sell everything you can
trash everything you can’t

sell everything you can
trash everything you can’t

- kirsten opstad

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