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tree in a row/be kind by Ernst Coobellow Printer Friendly

this stereo is going now fit to make me burn,

turn me - my heart upside down and dump me out

salt shaker-like for flavoring and goodness.

I'm a whole pile of puddled eyes and ears and laughs and sighs

waiting for a foot to splatter me all over,

set me adrift,

leave me to be and be and be and see.....

Well, I guess I been left for so long

like eyeballs in the sand,

open, grainy, and lookin out on the cold and inevitable empty blue blue.

Oh Lord, life is too much for my poor little heart

when it comes full like a wagon.

I scream, "JUmp ho, heave, Stand, sit, wave, don't ever ever blink, just you think for one moment that this is not the most beautiful and the everlasting, ABANDON SHIP!!!!!!"

TO say I'm ambivalent.... is two say that there are two sides to the WHOLE.

I'm not quite sure you can break One

or leave anything on the skids or the let go

or the throw away-

sometimes I think the chippedest places of my hearts and dreams and thoughts

is necessary as rain.

To rejoice in heartache is to go against all

and to love all that is against and for

gain is loss and tear drops have no end to spread when they fall gently, slow, like the hot-warm drops your momma put in your ear aches.

TO say I love and leave out the slightest leaves me.

Can you say you're ready for a good heartache

and welcome it with the red-carpet that you stained with your blood

and an empty bottle of broken port.

Your hair is left, caught in the door

that you opened with an expectant waiting mind

hoping for glory on your terms

that you swung shut but for a crack

and hungered for to open and to pour

something indivisible,

red and white and

so Blue................


new things, newspaper pictures, newport cigarettes

and the newskin you painted omni-blue electric .... like the BODY ELECTRIC

wings, the soft pajamas, the softer hair- long brown and unbelievable on your pillow.

even though two guitar notes will tell you that there is only the breakable, the fragile, and the angel's hair hearts that everyone carries along with aching lungs and dum ta dum ta dum tat ta dum ta dum song.

humans are angels that think they're wings are broken

and fly as high as the dust before they settle on the nearest heart.........ache.

ummm... hummmm... skin, soft, unbelievable...... take the mystery where it meets the flesh

to the place you call holy.


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