Read your eyes
Haven’t learned how to remember
Your glance of artful proportions, dearthly looking after me

Forgive my glance in the east
The sun rises in the north when I’m on the west of east
Everything’s gone south, I should be back at home looking at the pole star from the south
I am back at the eastern seaside, running coast to coast

Liven joy as if it isn’t
As of now the joy is real
Looking for it some in an ounce of vivacious motherhood
That ******* left the phone
Coffee in the train, tea out of the surfboard returning on bossa nova
Born in the art noveau made a black magic woman, out of heads
Beads in the ruthless response, like the sensory second made of stern stuff
Kick me in the ground, the wars in the battleground, kick me into the sentoryou
I want out now, I’ll be determined now
Sorry papa