MOSTLY, EVERYONE'S GONE MAD
You can slide the infraction under the door,
the place where the corn flakes glide. There's
a raven in the window staring me down. Quoth
the raven : 'You're a bore!' My, my how things
have changed.
-
This quality of mercy is not strained; I always
wondered what that meant; baby food? Strained
peaches or beets or pears. I like my spinach straight.
-
The tan dog walks by again, looking sideways at
me as it goes. In the aboriginal night of some
dream-time circle, I'd be fearful, but not now.
I am safe in the Heaven I stand beneath.
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