MAKING SENSE NOW
(Hopewell, NJ)
I may have signalled something by the
hat or torched instead that little pile of mud.
Nothing making sense. Unknown messages
and unheard things mistranslated at will.
Who will hold me responsible for that?
If some God is a figment of intention,
mine was to go straight to somewhere else,
not necessarily the name of 'Heaven' I knew.
Skin is soft. Coats could be made from hide.
The Lindbergh baby, for instance, had a tale
to tell, but not one making much sense at all.
(Hopewell, NJ)
I may have signalled something by the
hat or torched instead that little pile of mud.
Nothing making sense. Unknown messages
and unheard things mistranslated at will.
Who will hold me responsible for that?
If some God is a figment of intention,
mine was to go straight to somewhere else,
not necessarily the name of 'Heaven' I knew.
Skin is soft. Coats could be made from hide.
The Lindbergh baby, for instance, had a tale
to tell, but not one making much sense at all.
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