To be A bee, a moth Four wings spread for the soft last touch Of glory sun Remembering blood plums and lips and lemons - One hundred different suns In a hundred different heavens Spied from a rowboat - Stroke, nought is spoken Before you know it, the spell is broken You might wonder where you are Floating on the reservoir I have counted the...Learn More

Now should you expect to see something that you hadn't seen In somebody you've known since you were sixteen If love is a bolt from the blue Then what is a bolt but a glorified screw And that doesn't hold nothing together Far from these nonsense bars and their nowhere music It's making me sick and I know it's making you sick There's nothing there...Learn More