There is Earth
And from that Earth, our birth
To my Mother
My darkest clowns
I am nothing but
Error and absurdities
I am found in diversity,
     Not prosperity
My defects more glorious
     Than my victories
I mourn my disasters
     Unable to celebrate victories
Is a frigid heart
     Worth the love it believes due?

A new life beckoning
On a strange new shore
Are you the herald of progress
Or the purveyor of amusement

The helpless soul within her drowned
Odin, the one-eyed god of battle
Screamed a foul sound in a fit of rage
A battle cry sung to the dead
The American witches
Practicing witchcraft at night
Turning red candles white
The jester came from above
Floating by to deliver
Tales of tragedy and comedy
Time and space are the
Abstractions of our experience