You believe what
you will. He
got no one
else to lie.
He had plans
I never knew,
while listening to
my sacrifice. The
dust has you
tight, and you
don’t question it
when it commands
you in the
night. I’m waiting
for some of
your time, and
losing what I
can’t find. You
took me over
your walls but
only had your
breathing to sell.
After Milton, he
became more treacherous,
and needed you
for reasons you
didn’t need him.
Now he’s got
a chicken farm
in Puerto Rico,
where he blows
a horn all
day. You have
your hygiene which
you carry well.
ROMAN SKY
Do you remember that walk?
That walk you called separation?
That walk you called independence?
That walk you called “being stronger”?
Did you really believe any of it?
Did you declare how you were
free and how
you had no machine to
control your day?
Did you try to prove
a point
while weeping into
your hands
in the desert?
And did you find someone to
make the sky like
Rome for you?
CUTTING UP THAT CROP
Nobody knows
what a nice
day it
is except me.
I came back
to see you
while
you were away.
You have
spoken well,
if that’s what you feel.
We’ll make no
more arrangements.
We carry on regardless,
anyway.
I didn’t learn
my lesson,
and you
didn’t learn the truth
SOMETIMES THINGS ARE HARD TO PUT DOWN
Be careful where you chew,
as they’re looking
for someone else
who never lets it sleep.
Turning gears and sticks,
she doesn’t know which
way to go.
Now I measure all my
leather, making sure it fits.
When I get the envelopes,
I’ll look out for the slits.
She is on the lawn,
looking up at the birds.
She can never be here,
if you are always there.
I measure her up with
my head,
and I give her rifle,
and I give her bait.