Ears Uncovered, Clouds that Hang
Kids or grown-up, stories between each day we have a flavor,
it works every time.
I have to try again, to make the children laugh,
to give them discipline,
no food or drink,
we enjoy the pain as converts to currencies accepted by careworkers and gravediggers,
someone help me, my hands are full,
each song is soft against the ocean,
against the cries or geese the winds that beat.
Show me the scoop, where is the next dot,
I write this story for you, for today and a day when you are ready to catch mice,
to catch fish in the dark in Alaska and the Opera house,
so that when you lie awake it reads to you rhythmically, the memories are real when brought to the candlelight,
when hummed in the morning, shocked, adrenalized, the paralysis keeps each dream above,
broken fingers ragged breathes, we lay next to each other and it helps,
I listen to you and the starlings through the window,
our story the sqeak bubbles landing on soft brown hair music on stage together.