There Is Mercury, Or Maybe Bowie, Jagger Or One of the Others

You dream as you turn the pages of lasagna and the thin voices of your parents behind the wall That man is there, the fluff, the sequins of his overcoat A strange angle to challenge your religion, you can’t really see the eyes from this flash As a child you stared, and now you stare again. It strikes seven chords from within your bones. A medley; the body has never heard before- And the muscles, the nerves, the fibers, and the tissue all vibrate to make vague sort of new virgin space. Aaagh, all of a sudden, and your grandmother touches you gently, a brush on the shoulder to ask you are you alright? Because your flesh is dripping. And you know why, because its all, Bit of your soul is broken off And ‘that’s why the caged bird sings’ now And all. You’re a ripple in the daylight now. So try, And try, And try, And try.