A word about Alaska,

Its starts with, "I just want to be in Alaska"
thats the first hint that its no good.

I just want to be in Alaska,
I just want to be there while the smoke rises out of the cabins,
while the salmon and the trout fight over who can jump out of the water first,
only to be eaten by a bear.

I want Alaska and alaskan wolves,
I want Alaska and those large pine trees,
and those glacier filled lakes.
I want Alaska and craggy stones covered in moss,
those impossible snow filled roads.

I want Alaska and those fishnets,
I want Alaska and those cabins.

I want you, in that cabin,
wearing fishnet tights.

I never want to write a poem about sex.

But I want Alaska,
I want my escape,
and I want it now.

I found out what love is,
Love is Alaska,

and those tiny airplanes,
love is my moccosins and my peace pipe,
love is a rotting seal carcass on the beach.

it doesnt make sense to me,
but love is a rotting seal carcass on the beach,
and fishnet tights.



Love is a waste of time,

the carcass will leave nothing but bones,
the fishnets will snag on the bones and unravel,
and shes going to be depressed and hes going to talk,
and they're going to stare,
and shes going to stare back.

the bush pilots in the planes look down,
the triabl chiefs with there head dresses,
made of feathers,
feathers,
feathers.

They didnt need to find out what love means.
But I needed made up facts about Alaska,
I needed made up facts about Indian Chiefs.
I needed to dishonesty
to exlain the most honest thing I will ever know.

I needed Alaska.
I need Alaska.
And Im going to want alot more Alaska.
Im dreaming of a seal smoking a peace pipe,
And a bear dancing around a fire,

An Indian Chief dead on the beach,
with an arrow through his heart,
and a smile on his face.

Because thats what Love really is.