Swollen Home by Matthew Milia

Always clearing my throat
In the exact sound as my mother
She drip-dried my raincoat
That I took from my dad's brother

This October
Will fill the Silverdome
Swollen home

Always smelling those burnt
Plastic TV dinners
After soccer practice we weren't so
Hungry as beginners

This October
Will explode the styrofoam
Swollen home

Birthdays next week will
Make it all fast-forward
So I’ll press on your hot cheek till
I'm in the apple orchard

The cider mills of Rochester Hills
Where I rewind
And automatically
Taste the static we find

I'm tripping off you when I get that youth rush
Sipping off you when I taste your toothbrush
You were faceless in some weird dream that I had
On the basis that I feared that you'd turned bad
Empty Pontiac when the snows dust
Save a place for you outside my lust

Save a place for me when our homes bust

Appears on Alone at St. Hugo