A Function of Exasperation

He's a jar
with a heavy lid
my pop quiz kid
a sleepy kisser
with feelings hid
He begs me not to miss him.

He says forever
to light a fuse
we could use
a hand full of wheel
and a day off
and a bruised road
however you might feel
tonight is real

When I forget how to talk I freeze
won't you please
bring that flash to shine
and turn my eyes red
unless they close
when you click
and my face gets sick
stuck
like a question unposed.

Please beware the quiet front yard
I warned you
before there were water skies
I warned you not to drive
dry your eyes you poor devil

Are there really ones like these?
The ones I dream
float like leaves
And freeze to spread skeleton wings
I passed through before I knew you

He's a jar
with a heavy lid
my pop quiz kid
a sleepy kisser
a pretty war
my feelings hid
he begs me not to hit him.