Hot tears, streaming down cheeks like raindrops hitting on spaceship windows, just before it leaves this world, and all it's thin white worry; Even Lazarus must have counted the ticking of the clock, just as his soul imploded inside the crux of a blackstar; He blindfolded himself so we would not see what he saw, and he never knew the people he made weep, but they understood him.
She leaned back on the black couch, we merge like gumdrops melted and gnarled; sticky with sweat, long legs in a nightgown, the bridal gown she wears uncertain of whose bride she is; she struggles at playing chess with her feet, I struggle with my hands, look at me, I could never win, but if she knew the toil I was in, would she laugh? She has always had a nice smile.
In the sepia evening, the day crumbles away, trickles to night, my hands are blue, trousers torn, ripped and worn , a black rainbow, venturesome overhead, brilliant in its lunacy.
I won't let this flame burn me twice. I won't once more tease the taste of your poison. You're poison. I knew I was inside your aviary cage made of glass, But I didn't know That I was trapped. Spending our interlude in the doldrums; This Vaudeville of lovers. These back street tricks we'd turn on each other, just to evoke a little joyously. That was our real theater.