on a page in a room
floating in the air
although the words don’t seem to be
going anywhere
with arms outstretched & fingers splayed
that wasn’t what i wanted to say
it’s half a sin to look at you
sins are windows for looking through
cherubs hover round your knees
that’s true
words are like leaves falling to the ground
then again i could be wrong
as i lie in this field where i belong
in a street in a town
underneath the scribbled knoll
evening comes around
black as coal
it’s ten to seven same as on earth
same scribe, same ink, same newspaper
in the dark of the night
creeping around people’s homes
on our hands & knees
so the theory goes
we’re creeping to another day
only time will make us strong
though we lie in this field where we belong
moses moses, arms outstretched
& fingers splayed
shh the marionettes
can hear us play
words are like leaves falling to the ground
then again i could be wrong
as i lie in this field where i belong
