Mona and Emmy

Mona's buying milk and honey from the summer bins in Milford Market.
Outside the door at six, the green bulb clicks,
On.
I work nine to five around the hiss of the ice box compartment,
When I punch out I want to set the night to bitter flames a-lickin'
The town and all the passion strickened down.

And Emmy's twenty years removed now, from that morning in July,
When her father held her in his arms.
And dipped her freckled neck down' 'neath the river water as flies,
Were darkening the brightness
And all of the baptismal whiteness
But darlin' all those of our likeness
Were born so very ready to live
And to die.

I know my way through the neighborhoods
From Mona's house to the interstate.
I know my way to the greatest things we got,
They're old and dirty, surely.
The travelin' acts they leave their sounds
For railroad tracks in other towns,
But I want to hold to something longer
Something meaner, something stronger
For at eleven thirty the town's alone, again.

And Emmy used to say she loved me,
Used to be oh so proud of me,
When she saw her father in my eyes.
When I dipped her golden head down 'neath the river water swimmin',
The pine shine all was dimmin'
The kitchen panes were pitch-dark within
And I thought we were only kidding till
Your father cried.

Mona, you're my only friend, we could take the interstate;
Though you know the interstate deadends.
Will it lead us to the milk and honey,
Is the Promised Land just a funny
Way to say the strangeness never ceases?
'Cause Emmy, you have baptized me to pieces.