He wakes up in a fleeting bed,
In a far away motel
Preaching strangers on the art of
It’s all about a loaf of bread,
And health and physical well-being

I am a blocked volcanic crater
I burn my own skin
Going dry, going slim
Going all the way to him
I am the waiting siren

Of a land between two rivers, sing
I—The divine coronated of the eig
Etched by the men from Mars,
I—a star Venus
Alone I stood ahead of Cetus.

Angels or demons?
Demons— must it be
Had a place in my head
They build it;
Stone by stone

The sky looked at me with shame,
I felt it gazing on my body
It heated my skin,
Burned it.
Punished—I am

The ending is water’
Whispered a crow,
As I step slow—Out, out of the as
My body, which isn’t mine, dragged
Needles falling on the grey floor,

A larva growing rapidly,
A butterfly to become
Flying free, propelling air.
Those fair, innocent wings that I
When I am to be wed to the moonli

Among the men in white I walked
Seven and hundreds of times I wal
First, I crawled;
Then, I marched
And at last, I dead-walked;