Song

Sing me awake, be my dawn
Sing me to sleep, carry me home
Sing me and make me never come to
Be the man I thought I knew

And the last time
Made the first time
The last time

Sing me a knife, you use it
Sing me a sign, confuse it
Sing me a cup, a blanket, a pill
Ask the man if he won’t, if he
will

And the last time
Made the first time
The last time

I’d put my money on
Some one else
But I’d ride your horse in the rain
There’s mud in my teeth
A hole in your sheet
But look
There’s the hill
There’s the hill

And the last time
Made the first time
The last time

V south

I have no core
No center
No fidelity
No inside
No am
Touched by the wind I go; touched
by the rain I stop. Her want,
his vision, send me, sculpt me,
imprint me; her vision, his want –
schedule me, clothe me, violate &
sate me.
Touched by the wind I go.
Touched by the rain I stop.
Untouched, I don’t even know I’m
alive.
Deeds are reactions to invasions &
seductions; to reflections of
incapacity, erased by movement &
an armor of words.
Desire in a coin locker in a
station in dream. Left there,
unclaimed, in pitch. My desire.
Untranslatable, ungrammatical, felt as
a gulf, an entrapped depth,
crystal ball-like, in the infalling
length that goes down, on an
angle, through me.