As you proclaim your prose in peace,
I sit deaf to every word
pouring toward this spot of ground
where I catch them with my mouth.
No utensils in my hands,
and just the faintest wraiths of plans:
To absorb, perhaps internalize that smile.
It isn’t too hard.
When I wake up to check the time,
nostrils flaring as I sigh,
turn my face from left to right,
then I open up my eyes …
after months, I’m still surprised.
When I clutch my pillow tight,
hear it sigh and, seconds later, there’s that smile.
This isn’t too hard.
And every sordid past life
dissolved in knowing blue eyes
while multitasking on our way to another time ...
then every sordid past life
expired from a child’s brown eyes
while multitasking on our way to another time.
As you proclaim your prose in peace,
I sit deaf to every word
pouring toward this spot of ground
where I catch them with my mouth.
No utensils in my hands,
and just the faintest wraiths of plans:
To absorb, perhaps internalize that smile.
No need to worry or to hurry –
there are no reavers here.
May every sordid past life
descend like scales from our eyes
while multitasking on the way to a better time,
and may all impending new lives
prevail like crooked doves’ eyes
while loving faithfully and learning to fly!
Both of your shoulders are shaking?
Well, here is some comfort – bangarang!
All of your spirit is breaking?
Well, here’s a new language – bangarang!
If, in the end, the best we can do
is raise a hypocrite’s hell with the relatively righteous,
we might as well burn with a smile!
Both of your shoulders are shaking?
Don’t you grieve, ‘cause here is some comfort – bangarang!
All of your spirit is breaking?
Don’t you grieve, ‘cause here’s a new language – bangarang!
But when the mystery dissipates,
will you still say I remind you of the ocean?
Don’t you grieve, don’t you grieve.
Remember when you agreed to adventures,
‘cause danger is the father of flight!
Both of your shoulders are shaking?
Don’t you grieve, ‘cause here is some comfort – bangarang!
All of your spirit is breaking?
Don’t you grieve, ‘cause here’s a new language – bangarang!
I believe that when I fall,
it will be forever,
because now I see
the world is round.
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