so many more small voices
the whine is deafening
Yo no puedo
nada, nunca
All’s too much a chore
The human world is running out of days
running out of time, and place
running down, fading
Take what you are craving
while you can
Running, enclosed in wind and ecstasy
tumbling through hills and streams
touching ebullient songs and stories I
mind made from scores of memories
Fairy Queens in fabulous fashion,
perfumed theatrical, fountain of care and flame
Here, decades before stir of storms destroyed,
bliss and pain drum rattle refrain humming in time
Would you listen? Would you call for intermission
to tell me to go on, to give form to cast impressions,
would you hear?
Would you share precious dialog, help to make clear
notes and tones adrift in unwritten air?
darkening, forward escaping, suffocating forests can
offer no refuge, no future breath, no better fate
We cry our deep and enduring hate, love, revenge
falling backward
Operator's Manual 