THE TRAGEDY OF SONG

She sings in such hushed vocal tones one second,

then she shatters glass in an attack of tragic beauty the next.

The truths and traumas of life seem so real and painful when her voice glides over them,

after all, isn’t this the life that you and I and her live?

We are all in the same boat on this rough ocean at the mercy of the gale.

If we...

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A winsome voice rose
into the unlit sky
its fingers harped
unwakened dreams

A bare vignette lurched
into the shadows
its claws scraped
unshoed expeditions

An arm is raised high
blurry stars in witness
its blood testifies
unquieted aspirations

A voice rose to the Night.
and formed a melody
its waiting days expired
unsought gem wanes.




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Every Friday I look like a shit,

Every Friday I look like a shit,

Every Friday I look like a shit,

I loooooooook like a shit.

But every Monday I am like a horn,

But every Monday I am like a horn,

But every Monday I am like a horn,

I aaaaaaaaam like a hoooooooooorn.

I work in the office of intercom,

I work in the office of interco...

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