#AmericanWriters
When I think about myself, I almost laugh myself to death, My life has been one great big jok… A dance that’s walked A song that’s spoke,
When love is a shimmering curtain Before a door of chance That leads to a world in question Wherein the macabrous dance Of bones that rattle in silence
He bad O he bad He make a honky poot. Make it honky’s blue eyes squint
We were entwined in red rings Of blood and loneliness before The first snows fell Before muddy rivers seeded clouds Above a virgin forest, and
One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,
Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city
Shadows on the wall Noises down the hall Life doesn’t frighten me at all Bad dogs barking loud Big ghosts in a cloud
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you?
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Marked the mastodon, The dinosaur, who left dried token… Of their sojourn here
A last love, proper in conclusion, should snip the wings forbidding further flight. But I, now,
We wear the mask that grins and li… It shades our cheeks and hides our… This debt we pay to human guile With torn and bleeding hearts… We smile and mouth the myriad subt…
Your skin like dawn Mine like musk One paints the beginning of a certain end. The other, the end of a
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
The highway is full of big cars going nowhere fast And folks is smoking anything that… Some people wrap their lies around… And you sit wondering
When I was young, I used to Watch behind the curtains As men walked up and down the stre… Young men sharp as mustard. See them. Men are always