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a time when people were
not afraid of each other?
must be a bad joke
ask any rowan
by the road
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A lonely lover sings
Or maybe
We are the song
The lyrics don't make sense
We keep forgetting the words
Let's stay for another one
Just one more
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i have a dark pocket
i try to avoid that place in my mind
where the Earth is a little blue marble
the size of a pea and we are
never there
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and all of this must be preserved against time
though once a doctor made it very plain:
if there are some patients who feel cool
because they wrote a poem or two
let them try and operate on someone's brain
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step out of the dream box, o Hamlet, your hour draws near
step out of the dream box
step out of the dream box
you can wear a colorful dress and sail and sail down the river
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I am the water running down gutters,
the sound of conversations echoing off walls.
Isn't it beautiful? I ask,
The things that bind us.
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can it be that you’re a miracle (I always hear this word),
not a real one, but as if, as if it were a question of belief
the belief or knowledge that you are an independent
heart’s pulse, viscous dust quickened by lightning
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For the concrete columns
Holding up this world,
For it all, once upon a time
I paid with lilac leaves.
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but I am far from the stars
far from the deft twists and turns of the mind
from the life that others would approve of
but is that any reason to complain?
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Memory still erases and tears,
Erases and tears.
You would want it all to end more quickly,
The calendar to break off around Christmas time,
So in your inner manger, it would be all warm and…
Cities are just cities. This one too. On the road to Bethlehem.
