There once was a girl
Who was foully blessed
With a pulsating heart
Outside of her chest.

Samantha was a gentle soul,
And though it seems unfair,
Every which-a-way she went,

I am nobody.
I cannot be peaceful, still, and just
For I have no restlessness to cease.
No will for peace, no thoughts or dreams,
No stars to rest on silver wings.

O, cowboy from southern Missouri,
It's so unmistakably queer,
I admit that it does make me worry
That he lives with his seat on his steer.

I watch as he trots 'cross the prairie,

My mother told me to sit on this couch
And wait for the party to begin.
Waiting?
Now, where’s the fun in that?

I strum my fingers in an impatient dance
Upon the armrest,

Sounds kiss, melting into
A pale background
Of paper lines.

Their fluid song grows louder,
Playing upon the tender drum
Of my ear.

Notes entwine, flowing and swirling
In a delicate dance

My life is a caged bird
And I’m bound in ropes
With arsenic rainstorms
Drowning my hopes

My life is a mousetrap
And I am the mouse
With cats always scratching
The door of my house

I once told a dragon a joke
Full of laughter, he started to choke
With a bright flaming wisp
I was burned to a crisp
And now my act’s gone up in smoke.

There once was a shark from Birch Bay
Who sat and watched people all day
He once was so brave
As to swim up and wave
Before they all floundered away.

There once was a boy from Saint Paul;

Here I am
Scarecrow Sam
Nothin’ really happens, just floatin’ through time
Minutes scattered, hours float
I pick ‘em up and let ‘em float
Lazily by.

One day,
After an eternity of growing,
My desire, raw and strong as a newly
Budded flower, burst
From the tender soil of my soul.

I etched
The words, ever so carefully,

The prospector’s legs are knee-deep in the stream
As his eyes scan the sand for a small golden gleam

Brown fingers, hope lingers on adamant hands,

Time is a man with a chisel,
Sculpting valleys of sharp folds
Into silken hands.

Whittling away youth, softly,
He is an artist at work:
The silver tip of his tool
Glides over smooth skin,

Love, in full bloom
Is the water that nourishes seeds…
Contained
By the glass vase of my heart,
The fluid inside pulses
And swells, longing
To evaporate and spread
Like gospel.