He rests upon me like a wandering cloud,
Full of disappearing light.
When the blue skies break through the storms,
He dashes for the night.
And when the ghosts of tempests peer,
He shows again, gray and true.
But there may be something he does not know,
That I am a lonely cloud too.

In just my time, you rang the bell,
The air of Spring in Autumn dwells
Where the world is seen in no hard way.

My eyes look bright, my father tells,
Of feelings felt and once were quelled
On this bench; you sit and understand

I feel one day we’ll make smooth jazz.

She cries in her bathetic voice, "Bless you,
Bless you". Her cut up hands attached to a body
Floating through a crashed solar system,
The spirit choked from her throat.

I am paralyzed; drinking life from
A jewel-encrusted chalice, but I
Continue to sit here without a sound.
I can not, not do--nothing.

Silver years, frightening years,
Months without light or noise.
I sit and wait for solitude. It is
Nothing nothing nothing.

I am a compound for future generations,
Let them know how to be free. To know
It began with his mocking, squawking
sand paper heart. He made me whisper--nothing.

Clam, calm, cool lass now,
A woman walks into the room,
finding my hollow tomb. Break
Me out of my misery, dressed in my best suit.
I am a poor girl.