To a Muse
Give me a first line, you who are far away.
The second line will almost write itself.
In times of pain, I open the dictionary.
Like a girl in the last row who will not say
The theoretical part of the dream was herself
Give me a first lie, you who are far away.
A student laughs. I died once. Red is gray.
Cheat me like a quote, deceiving Elf.
In times of pain I open the dictionary.
You who tried to carve this family in clay
Skeptical and frivolous as a filthy shelf,
Give me another line, you who are far away.
It's a small freedom on a revisionary day
As a jay imitates the human on an elm.
In times of pain, I open the dictionary.
And in ordinary happiness, I open the dictionary.
The words remain, but the guards are gone for help.
Give me a last line, you who are far away.
In times of pain, I open the dictionary.
Give me a first line, you who are far away.
The second line will almost write itself.
In times of pain, I open the dictionary.
Like a girl in the last row who will not say
The theoretical part of the dream was herself
Give me a first lie, you who are far away.
A student laughs. I died once. Red is gray.
Cheat me like a quote, deceiving Elf.
In times of pain I open the dictionary.
You who tried to carve this family in clay
Skeptical and frivolous as a filthy shelf,
Give me another line, you who are far away.
It's a small freedom on a revisionary day
As a jay imitates the human on an elm.
In times of pain, I open the dictionary.
And in ordinary happiness, I open the dictionary.
The words remain, but the guards are gone for help.
Give me a last line, you who are far away.
In times of pain, I open the dictionary.
-- David Shapiro
I love this...
Posted by: jsc | August 27, 2010 at 04:56 PM