Tuesday

I saw a bird tense up on a wire
leap and thrust, feathers flurrying
and smack to the asphalt squelching
To be eaten by a thousand cars
Driven by men who can't afford them
and their wives with plastic faces

Al Mustaqbal

Kissing you was a handful of water
in this deep, dark desert of days

Edge of Darkness

Clap on, clap off
Clapton on crack rocks
Gunning the guitar with three hands
That's one more than Guy Fawkes
The gunpowder plan, the Catholic plot
Let's restore England to a golden epoch
That was not quite as hot as we originally thought
After the hornet's nest is ripped abreast
Our morals were put to the test, times are worst, times are best
A Dickens fest of religious zeal and political zest
When I heard that trumpet sound in Budapest
And Death charged in with all the rest
Famine, Plague, and riding last - Conquest
Riders on the storm of the abnormal
Bridging the line of the real and the insanely informal
Those dormant specters of man's internal blankness
With frankness, I say most of what makes a human
is a vacuum of rude phrases and empty spaces
Beyond the shadow shards of souls nonexistent
We're all just living to get fed
Through the slit of the libertine guillotine
No lead, no bread, no heads