ALL I can give you is broken-face gargoyles.
It is too early to sing and dance at funerals,
Though I can whisper to you I am looking for an undertaker humming a lullaby and throwing his feet in a swift and mystic buck-and-wing, now you see it and now you don't.
  
Fish to swim a pool in your garden flashing a speckled silver,
A basket of wine-saps filling your room with flame-dark for your eyes and the tang of valley orchards for your nose,
Such a beautiful pail of fish, such a beautiful peck of apples, I cannot bring you now.
It is too early and I am not footloose yet.
  
I shall come in the night when I come with a hammer and saw.
I shall come near your window, where you look out when your eyes open in the morning,
And there I shall slam together bird-houses and bird-baths for wing-loose wrens and hummers to live in, birds with yellow wing tips to blur and buzz soft all summer,
So I shall make little fool homes with doors, always open doors for all and each to run away when they want to.
I shall come just like that even though now it is early and I am not yet footloose,
Even though I am still looking for an undertaker with a raw, wind-bitten face and a dance in his feet.
I make a date with you (put it down) for six o'clock in the evening a thousand years from now.
  
All I can give you now is broken-face gargoyles.
All I can give you now is a double gorilla head with two fish mouths and four eagle eyes hooked on a street wall, spouting water and looking two ways to the ends of the street for the new people, the young strangers, coming, coming, always coming.
  
It is early.
I shall yet be footloose.

don't be afraid to bare your teeth
and snarl aloud
for weve evolved from instinct
and once you embrace it
you are more human than us all

I hear him mention that my greatness is that of a family name
and in that moment I understand I am nothing but a legacy.

And my tears are the vines that climb the deck
and put out his cigarette

and my memories create a storm
and dilate his ***** 'till it is water

-it takes time to see your true magic

'supreme manners turning into  feasts,
'I', devouring's  love,
'I', colour-blind Art's peace,
articulating lecture's reality,
bragging its release.'

I want you
to set your throat ablaze
and yell as loud as you can.

you are
                                               allowed
to be angry.

I want you
to sing
as we burn
our                                               problems
to ashes.