Early in the morning when the day is young,

and he mourning doves are laughing playing singing in the sun,

I’ll brew myself some coffee,

and scramble up some eggs

and look across the kitchen

to the place you used to stand

on pale legs

the polish cracking on your toes like shells that seagulls

cast upon some bare and hungry stones

I know last night was tiring,

so I’m going back to sleep,

I’ll lay my head upon the pillow and settle down

o dreams of

someone else

with a ring and a veil

Well the city is a thirsty beast it’s tongue is long

and hard and the summer sun beats down upon the bricks in my backyard

in the wintertime the pavement on the sidewalk starts to crack

and children step so lively as they try nit to beak

theirs Mother’s back

with her ragged golden curls

she laughs and snorts and giggles just like all the other girls

but her  man he is much shorter

and when they go to sleep

he lays his head upon the pillow and settles down to dream of

someone else.