Oh come ye, out of the crevice,
Out of the closet, out from the woodwork
I call upon you, from this pit
Here, I spit-shine my counterfeit soul
Your guileful goal, I smell it a mile off
I jump your puddles like toxic-waste runoff
For in the mirror, the clown can’t laugh
A bath of his own filth necessitates back-scratch
So show me yours, I’ll brandish mine
We’ll dine on the tears that we earned from our past swine
And throw our caution to the fire
Wind is weak and requires so little
While water’s rife and noncommittal
In this circus town, where the clock moves fast
But the hands move slow, so little transpires
Come take up residence on my canvas
Take wasted time off filthy hands
The bands of asteroids bound for this planet
Are eyeballing us since time began it
I’d like your portrait in my mind’s eye
Winking as minutes and planets fly by
Muse, I invite you, sledgehammer in hand
To break the hearth of this arid land
For I’m bored to tears and all dried up
Come wet my palate, fill my cup.