Little Rock, Big Sea

Little Rock, Big Sea

Every day
is merely a little rock
in a big sea
see this philosophy
came to me from a glance through a window
a curtained kitchen window
with the tang of street lights
burrowing through
and the ride takes off …
don’t paddle
to the nearest point that is your heart
all these paths
we twist and turn
for patriotic bliss
a stranger’s kiss
lemon drops on the moon
pea-shooting gypsies
feeling for a fresh, new vein
gypsies flying to California
seeking a mad hideaway
beneath the pulse of it all
the pulse of the freeways
the pulse of the helicopters hovering above you in the
naked and quaking
the jewels get the spotlight
and suddenly the curtains close
and the wind sways your hurt so elegantly …
The piano walked softly
from beyond the pillars of salt
there was someone standing on the edge
and the notes were begging him to hold on
for just one more day
for just one more little rock
in a big sea …
and he hoped to send her roses
through the mail
or in a pail
which he would set at her feet
and forever carpet every step she would take
with honor and love
with compassion for her dreams
with a hard, warm place to rest her head every night
and he would shatter every glass slipper
for none would fit her so well
as my kiss on her brow
my kiss on her teardrop
which he would swallow as his own … forevermore.
And he sits on the little rock in the big sea everyday
crushing glass slippers in his fingers
and damning the size
of this majestic sea.

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