There's a note on the door that can't be read
and a room breaking open under my soul.
And the all-night birds who won't sleep in the living city
have a grave to peck apart. The silent smaller birds
who surround them are making their way over a continent.
The all-night birds don't see the continent
but the shadow-birds guide silent birds over it.
The scent of your love is in the cube
on the tip of my cube-shaped nose.
The jewelry of trees is hiding madmen in the lawn
from a computer light.

After the officers raped you
we had to learn how to make love all over again
without thinking of all that policeflesh;
they pounded their wars into us
they pounded their hatreds into us
they made the continent metallic
all under our flight from the law.

This could be our shared house
twenty years from now
or a tiny hotel room on the edge
of a contaminated city.
All we know is that it holds the love that will be bones
and the blood that will run
on the fences of all the world's kings.

There's a
there's a stunned love under the people's river
where the
there's a stone in my lung.
There's a
there's a small snag in the cloth that you wove
where all the tiny animals come in.