he covers her cage with his rage, takes her song, tells her she’s wrong, weak, shouldn’t speak. she waits long for dawn.
to Me Too
to Me Too i was an escaped caged-bird flying confused, full-speed, into an invisible window. i was dazed when you, and you and you and you, picked me up and pretended to mend my wings and told me not to sing cuz my song was all wrong. i have my own cage now, and keep…
to Be i was not made to be laid down without a sound, move along before singing my song.
Stumbling i’m a lost tumbleweed, spreading seed. i hitched to the mountains, rolled with the trees; now i’m hangin’ on a sea breeze. i’ll play. i won’t stay. the desert calls but i love waterfalls. i don’t know where i belong. that’s my song.
to Mr. Mean
to Mr. Mean You’re deaf to your shrunken heart. Your skill is to kill joy. Your art is to break a boy’s toys and smother his sunken dreams. You look after your things and hear only your drunken song. You make a minute seem an hour long.
Notes Notes Noted are Songs You can Sing Again
Note to Who
Who knows what happened back then and way back when to everyone everywhere with every kind of hair, what’s Absolutely True. Who read what will happen after every page in the Book of What Already Happened and knows exactly what to do about Everything for All and once in a dream did sing to me…