The night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark,
And the walls have been steep.
Under a dead blue sky on a distant

He bad
O he bad
He make a honky
poot. Make it honky’s
blue eyes squint

Her arms semaphore fat triangles,
Pudgy hands bunched on layered hip
Where bones idle under years of fa
And lima beans.
Her jowls shiver in accusation

They went home and told their wive
that never once in all their lives
had they known a girl like me,
But... They went home.
They said my house was licking cle

Tears
The crystal rags
Viscous tatters
Of a worn-through soul
Moans

We, this people, on a small and lo
Traveling through casual space
Past aloof stars, across the way o
To a destination where all signs t
It is possible and imperative that

When I was young, I used to
Watch behind the curtains
As men walked up and down the stre
Young men sharp as mustard.
See them. Men are always

When I think about myself,
I almost laugh myself to death,
My life has been one great big jok
A dance that’s walked
A song that’s spoke,

The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance...
our long way home.
I was always yours to have.

I keep on dying again.
Veins collapse, opening like the
Small fists of sleeping
Children.
Memory of old tombs,