EARLY MORNING PAGE

EARLY MORNING PAGE   

Maybe when you die you can 
reaccess history from any point, 
go to the Red Indian tribes
instead of Heaven if you want. 

Maybe the howling dog in the night
is my father down in Hell, 
trying to communicate with me, 
who is his eldest son after all. 

Maybe I'll come back as a bird,
maybe being a bird is Heaven,
maybe being a dog is Hell, 
but not the one beside me sleeping.

For he gets fed all sorts of treats...
and now I hear the first bird sing.
I listened to Larkin Poe tonight, 
they're beautiful as anything. 

Pitiful the words I put down... 
my heart's in pain, and the voices
are starting to come back, exploiting
indecision with big choices. 

They put him through it too, my dad,
though he didn't do much wrong,
and the dinosaur can't get revenge
on the bird that pipes its song. 

 

◄ SIMPLY DESCRIBING A GARDEN AT NIGHT

THE COLOURS OF THE DAWN AT THE FOOT OF SEA NESS ►

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