where’s the muse these many days
that visitor of my soul with the voice
all its little flags and stones
its long corridors and hiding places
its electricity and galaxies, its days
in from the rain and its parades
the thrill of its knock out, the sad
of its sad, its bones and finery
its sackcloth and muddy sandals
the message it arrives with now
in a language I don’t understand
You never know how in the dark you are
Until the dark is in your eyes and in your bones
Until the only home you own’s the home you had
Until the good things that you love are bad.
You never know how far the dark is in
Till where you are is where you’ve always been
And where you’ve been is what you’ve never known
All the standard flaws and giving up.
You never really know how deep the cup
How tight the wire, how fit the glove
A gauge is just a thing for hanging on
Your measure when it’s here you’re gone.
You never really know how far you’ll go
Until there is a line that you won’t toe
Where you find the demon’s not your friend
You’ll never be the self you were again.
fast cat
Accidental Antenna 