How many will moan
With me the rotten remains
Times and days flow on
What was here before soft. Now gone.
I watch your sister go.
She walks around the corner, takes the bus, Now no more.
The parted light unites
A trash can rat and a cat leveled in a street fight on the floor
And would you know? Little stranger,
Would you know if we were less strange
Where my hand would go? Pretty stranger, Wouldn’t know.
A stranger you remain, therefore.
Quick steps up on the stairs, a knock, “Hello”.
Stands; speaks to the noses from where she reeks.
She seems to know That you ain’t a believer.
If you believe in what I am, then resist. Don’t go.
Like medicine, force it down your throat, close your eyes
And it will digest. Just Hold your palms about your ears and they won’t show
That you know, that you deliver
In the corner of my mouth I believe her
Where my heart is there is a tree that won’t grow.