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im carrying on,
entirely unable
to speak

just quietness
and questions


, won't you?

it's a nightly presence,
nightly presents

divinely surrendered
magically tendered
finances tenured,

in the wake of your heart,
I'm rendered
i dont know much
about the end
or how or where or why

and now
it is a cold
and windy night

will you let it be
as it wants to be
you can make a home for it,
you know

and i wonder
if perhaps
"the end" we sometimes speak of
is merely
a grandest of openings

and miracles light the path
like sights and tastes and smells
and memories,
though bittersweet,
they sometimes are

for that is what i am
and i choose
to love myself for it

and now
it is a cold
and windy night

as magical and strange
and altogether unavoidable
as you are

and this,
well this,
is certainly
the end
mugwort mama
mama momma
come home
come home mama

sing mama
mama sing
mugwort mama
mugwort sings

oh mugwort dancing
she  dances darling
oh dance, dance,
dance us home

laughing papa, papa laughing
oh papa, papa
is laughing us home

loving love
mama loving
mugwort mama
mugwort is loving us home

it is the flavor of this world
which carries me through

it is the strangeness that i love,
and nothing left to do

and funk

and skunk

will she love me?
she already does

the weather
that is this world -- everything
is, will be

and was
maybe 'it'
is just one more
far away place
maybe the gift
is this breath -- oh
sweet smiles on each
and every face
is a breakfast food
i met men in france
with whom i forever dance

i stumble into freedom
forgetting my own pants

and when it seems there’s nothing else
“come on home”, sing some plants

as for love? dream and dream
let there be another chance
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