The curtains a cocoon

which I have outgrown

crushing me

though I dare not venture out

my wings maimed

by an internal eternity.

Some days they open

as the sunlight shines

and snow falls

yet it remains a parallel world

a door to an unfamiliar universe

remains locked.

Even inside plates pile up

like a porcelain possum

they ...

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Mornin' on the desert, and the wind is blowin' free,

the elements have freedom,

but what about me?

Trailing from bar to bar

like new age saloons,

why's it so hard

just to find me a home?

I keep on wandering,

wondering where's my milk and honey?

People sippin' on moonshine

or as some call it money.

Mornin' on the desert, and th...

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