the child
saint
of separation
anxiety
eats

so little
that when
he
or she
chews
open

mouthed

a ghost
gets
a birthmark

Thy mother's bounty bundled in thy swaddling
Took up the cry to capture mine own craft,
And taking arms, thou plundered of my coddling;
Enslaved, I toil to serve upon thy raft.
Thy word is law, thy captaincy commanding,
I sleep not lest I miss my master's call;
Thy will is served, thy drudgery demanding,
Through foul and fair I weather all thy squall.
Thy institution has me fear the looming
Of pirate vessels, renowned for their shrift,
Majestic sails billowed in handsome pluming,
Looting thy spoils and setting me adrift.
Surrendered now unto thy vasty sea,
I dread the day thy heart will mutiny.

Oh some ol’ day these bones, these bones will bid my body bye.
They’ll watch me melt into this earth like ice in mid July.
I can’t think of a reason or a rhyme for all the mess
Except to live a life that might prepare me for the rest.
‘Cause some ol’ day these bones, these bones will rise up once again.
They’ll dance like that ol’ prophet said and jump up with the wind.
And on that sunshine morning these ol’ bones are gonna shout.
Escape with God to glory, all the trouble here without.