Friday, May 12, 2006

her a drum

I stretched my skin thin
Round my bones
To make for him a drum once
That holy man

And in the soft grass
Where he laid me to play me
Paddle out our cadence
Mystery things grew

He drummed up for me
The pyramids and druids
Strange machines of ink and paper
Message songs from stars

I’ll see you soon holy man
And when I do then
I’ll stretch my skin thin
And be your drum again

2 comments:

Art Penman said...
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Art Penman said...

is this dirty i think this is dirty or im dirty either way something is dirty