No Sun

All the aborted fetuses––
and all of the immortal souls
all the convictions
and all the predictions
of what's to come,
all the heartened prologues
and all the daunted school girls
fixing their hair in bathroom mirrors––
unaware of their infinite
souls uplifting.

And I'm here to tell you that
you've been one of them before,
your cowhide leather,
your cowback fat lunch,
your wine in the evening
when all is said and done.

And I'm here to tell you to
lie back,
rest some,
before hate takes you,
breaks you,
and causes your soul
to unwind.

What they've done to them,
you've done to them first
a trillion years ago
when the night
had no sun.


Shriveled in Blue

And I guess I'm gonna get away with this night too,
shriveled in blue,
my heart understood,
my mind delicate too.

And I guess I'm gonna be there when you do too,
slightly aloof,
always in tune.

And I guess they're gonna be there when I'm through,
oh so deep in rue,
for life is askew,
and this earth is my tomb.

And I guess we'll finally find out what's true,
even if it's just us few,
while we lie in our rooms,
our minds dissolving these clues.

And I guess that's just that:
us two always doomed,
forever entombed,
though we've gotten used to the gloom.