A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing

Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts

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

FOR DAVID P—B The eye follows, the land Slips upward, creases down, forms The gentle buttocks of a young Giant. In the nestle,

The highway is full of big cars going nowhere fast And folks is smoking anything that… Some people wrap their lies around… And you sit wondering

There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win

Pretty women wonder where my secre… I’m not cute or built to suit a fa… But when I start to tell them, They think I’m telling lies. I say,

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

We wear the mask that grins and li… It shades our cheeks and hides our… This debt we pay to human guile With torn and bleeding hearts… We smile and mouth the myriad subt…

You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you?

Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city

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

Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.