been to your house
where all the light bends -
where all the Flamingos  
eat their feet
for Fear of landin'.
where the crosses burn your heart
and your Art
is a Most Lost Cause -
I've seen you at random
according to
your plan...
i've found you
smoldering in the east wing
of a westerly
advance.

been to your world
where the girls in the air are priceless
and found you among them
trimming treacle from
the diamonds... your gorgeous lungs
twirling the unbelieveable highness
of a soft note
from no
song.