No cause for much concern

Explain the words of the soul to those that want to hear. IF

your company happily vents me of my vex, give me that soul.

you came along y-ou cut me this slab of dry biscuit. Like a story.

I was finding myself in the house of Cinderella, unable to discern

the pleasing porridge from the wine. Yell once to my earth and my sun

that they are doing well to revolve lest they stop. Tell them. Never be afraid to tell,

happy go lucky, lucky go telling. Give me soul. Show me the cracks living and breeding

noises on lone scarecrows standing; in a field of dreams.

October 2002.

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