I live
long, awkward silences in the moonlight
on the surface of another planet.

History is our theme song.

You live
with demons in your brain, in the country home
that is the back of your mind.

It lives
like a dog without hind legs
pulling itself along in its own chariot car.

We live
five miles from the waterfall
at the edge of the Mercator Projection.

They live
as a herd of emotions
stampeding out of control.

History is our theme song.