a midnight 12-top

Like a waitress who has lost her balance

I buckle at the knees from the weight

Of carrying too many plates.

There is a history in these shoulders.

Not one I’ve heard, but instinctively know

Like an old song in the throat

From my forgotten foremothers.

I am speaking with them now.

One says “Resist”

Another “Persevere!”

And another says “Learn to fight with your fists, you might need it this year!”

“And above all” they say in unison “above all, remain dear”

And I cannot let them down.

So I pick up the plates, and I balance them again;

There is such a history in these shoulders!

tall tale - a folk song

 I've been around the world, one thing I was told

The yarn will spin itself if the fabric's made of gold

If there's one wish I wished I wiiiiiiiiished...

...it's that this darn sweater wouldn't come unstitched!

(You may not know it to look at me, but I was a child of the wind)

Well I used to offer up my prayers to Poseidon

I sat in a creek near a statue right beside him

He whispered in my ear and what could it meeeeeeean...

...whoops my creek had turned into a stream!

(I once spent the whole day watching a cherry blossom die)



Now love. you've heard, is a very special gift

sometimes it lasts forever, sometimes it ends swift

one thing I know is you're bound to chooooooke...

with your lovers na-ye-ya-yum caught in your throat!