Friday, November 17, 2006

not far from 4th

dreams make a hard death
old brown shoes that keep no shine
pants that keep no clean
i frighten women from the church
sunday feigns a bitter cheer

but i've a corner not far from 4th
i can hear some whisperings
from my local catholic saint
telling secrets without relief
jagged little words unclear

radios shape lizzie into a samba
she did a chorus, once upon a time
but margaritas give her laughing
and the boys a second chance
there are marvels all through the end

i've found that careful breathing
has a pleasure and reward
coins like drops of manna
fall ajumble at my feet
i must be quite beautiful to behold

is the sudden darkness from the dawn
has sister sun gone on too long?
questions are just lively fleas
small companions, tender touch
or is this longest day gone to a close?

where do i find these musings
they're all ascattered on my street
just waiting for my quicksome hand
and sometimes my gold goes in the air
seeking better pockets, better care

i've dreamed a river black and deep
cold like mother's touch
i've made a name that must be secret
and soon i'll make my drink
be on my way, from my corner

not very far from 4th

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