The Trouble With You

 

 

 

Moss, Grass crackle in hand.

Leaf, Root, Flower, Fruit, orders Garden.

“The trouble with you,” she says—

& I’m a ladder left leaning on a Tree.

 

Leaf, Root, Flower, Fruit, orders Garden.

Frost puts to slumber, sleep…

& I’m a ladder left leaning on a Tree.

Put on some Music & we’ll pretend

 

Frost puts to slumber, sleep…

Snow Berry stars in an empty Wood.

Put on some Music & we’ll pretend

Blood-stained box the Turkey rode in.

 

Snow Berry stars in an empty Wood.

I can’t look you in the eye, just how we are

Blood-stained box the Turkey rode in.

Nothing older or more terrible—

 

I can’t look you in the eye, just how we are

Last Leaves, yellow mobiles, smile, smile

Nothing older or more terrible—

Put on some Music & we’ll pretend—

 

Last Leaves, yellow mobiles, smile, smile

Moss & Grass crackle in hand.

Put on some Music & we’ll pretend—

“The trouble with you,” she says—