no more frontiers
the broken-stemmed flower turns her head sunwise still
eleven petals; no beheading today !
be still; gently rotation
language tells you nothing
.
she’s got all those fingers but she hasn’t got anything on them
you say as we watch men and women roaring and shouting
you are not just a thing to put pain in
.
the blunt days are over
the heart grows back
no more frontiers
till the land
you should cut your nails
no more pigeon TV
every dream tumbledown drawers
did those bells always chime
and every day another high
regulate, eleven petals
the secret ingredient is sin
be wise, not the clock!