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All the poems
Of my neighbors
That drift across the sand

Are just the tendrils
Of a vast
But gentle plant which they command

The headdress
Of a goddess
You wore the night we came

Is only
One small symptom
And really not to blame

You're riding a tiger
Riding a tiger

Heaven
Sent the mortals
Ranged upon the wall

And likewise
All the missiles
Shot to make them fall

Effortlessly
Moving
Picture into frame

Riding a tiger
Riding a tiger
Riding a tiger


Over the bleachers
Into the sky
Into the reach of some
Cool goodbye

Key grip was crying
Best boy was me
Here in the sheltered knoll

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