Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water

She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running

You drink a bitter draught. I sip the tears your eyes fight to… A cup of lees, of henbane steeped… Your breast is hot, Your anger black and cold,

Your skin like dawn Mine like musk One paints the beginning of a certain end. The other, the end of a

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

We were entwined in red rings Of blood and loneliness before The first snows fell Before muddy rivers seeded clouds Above a virgin forest, and

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

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

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

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?

A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Marked the mastodon, The dinosaur, who left dried token… Of their sojourn here

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,