Among the best things I've done: stiffed the queen for her commission, and everything west of the edge of everything. let the miracle steep until bravery came crashing down the door by way of three A.M. quartered a sweet little lemon with loveliest of harp string found on private river bank. disturbed the singer-songwriter while he did neither but dreamt of safer destinations. waited on the facts to roll in earlier and disguised as bathroom mirror messages...
everybody do the stand around... nothing is the new sound now no funeral singer needed for the bodies walk the streets only when neccesarily brave with narcotic and sure the lighthouse keeper is sleeping also safely caged like the rest of those digital friends kept away for fear of knowing what a life might weigh in the hand not a tool for rarely touching but freeing teeth from the jaw of the never saw it coming and so never had a chance to forget to dance in the candlelight dangerous how you hold it close to nothing much at all doesn't ache in the smog long enough for drive through extra everything with don't bother there's no one home still no one has gone anywhere for weeks upon weeks and nobody is the only who almost sometimes knows your name on and on the non-songbird can't wake you so why is he winged at all when it would be easier to travel north for the summer time is all in the mind of the man with nothing to do but break his fall with an imaginary heart... here we go...
I get up, find my shovel, start digging,
somewhere near the middle of the left of the right side of my mind.
me and jackie and tom waits up around the corner
I, myself, am somewhat of a sleeper. jackie, she
a wild raspberry bramble. a real gas peddle. tom, he
a dancer. a cloud puzzle champion.
we three made the decision to watch one another wander
and at two, meet back at the fountain. full of stories and whistling the soundtrack of the sacrificial virgin.
eat her heart, we know something of the cat and his