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The Meadows

I want to sleep in the meadows. I want to bathe in the wash,

search the ghettos for the Spanish that I’ve lost.

The mountains ring around you, and you wear them like a crown.

From a pedestal of desert blue, the mornings bring you down.


I’m a bullet in the empty gun you dance with in a dream.

I didn’t know the game was twenty-one when I hit on seventeen.

What secret’s in the sunny night that I may never know

the colour of your twilight eyes? You kissed me with them closed.


And I will go. But what remains, I’ll seed and grow.

I put it there to echo in your ear. Now listen to my souvenir.


Your electric heart’s a bluebird that we carry in a sack -

a yolk across your shoulders, a whip upon your back.

I stowed away its neon blood. The scarlet stains I cast

are shade for the oasis that used to be its nest.


I was just a pony sleeping on your riverbed.

Hallucinations were all phony ones. The flood was in my head.

You promised me that I would stay a solitary cell.

You lied. I multiplied my way in your wooden well.


Now I have gone, but what must stay will play along.

I left it like a lyric disappears, so listen to our souvenir.

© Audsongs 2019

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