Standing here by the waters edge; eyes wide, knife in hand with the sharpest edge

The shadows spoke of electric lines

Wireless calls to purge the lies
They know to much of secret lives

You swore the brakes would hold,

But you never knew that they'd been recalled

Wishing now I'd had a pen on hand



Kneeling here by the waters edge; eyes wide, knife in hand with the sharpest edge

You held the walls for to long they said

A fool errant, nesting in a witch's bed

Now ... read more

The actor must soon leave the stage
curtains close, crowds hiss, boos chide
though the good doctor said to fix his mind
he bought the ticket and took the ride

Enter now this stage on which all play
the wanderer masked in all his grace
so he may breath despite sand as fires rage
marooned on this small planet, this spit of sand
where dust sweeps across these open planes
and ruins far outnumber the dead
cities as burnt out forests of no mans land
and framework spines claw viciously ... read more