There is a man without a face
I saw his portrait on a wall today
His hair is black and all in place
Don’t know his name
Don’t know his trade
Don’t know the reasons for his fate
I think a lot about him
Wonder how it feels to vanish with no trace
What it’s like to be a man without a face
The crowd is
the crowd
You’re either in
or you’re out
The crowd is
always the crowd.
I wander slow
past Mary’s door
I pause to see
her tapestry
hanging still
in her dark window
Mary’s door
locked from the inside
Mary don’t
live there no more.
Leave a stone
Leave a stone
Leave a stone
So that it can be known
you stepped through here alone
Leave a stone
Leave a stone.
I place you here
in plain view
to gaze into depths
imagine
what once your words
must have
meant
Too much information
so many lines
enticement in silent gestures
Lies and rips
undermining plump lips
even your shoes suspect slip
Trees root
I shelter
Wolves ramble
I dancer
Rivers ripple
I breathe
They are we
We are we
Life key
Unlocked
Indomitably
In dawn’s blur, I awaken to radiosounds
Everything is broken, a sultry voice declares
but even weakened and half-asleep—
I don’t believe.
