Toward a Better Breed of Freaks
Running with the pack
is not so easy
as one might suppose.
It takes a special kind of guts
to listen to the same old noise
day after day... even if
the peace at nightís rewarding.
Going it alone has hazards too,
but you meet a better breed of freaks.
-from ďIf You love Somebody, Tell Them/1970
A Patch of Sky,
Away From Everything
You move through the house
sweeping down the bedroom
with your eyes
like sun on Sunday
but more like you.
Shall I cover you with lilacs when you die ?
Do that for me if I go first.
Smell me up the old world
as you pass my grave.
I talk of dying because then Iíd be sure
not to see your eyes darting in the street
going from face to face
seeking my replacement.
Here at home Iím safe
no talk of dying now
I live beneath the furrow of your brow
and think myself immortal.
Stake me out a patch of sky
some no one has ever seen
weíll go there and live
away from everyone
-from the album ďThe Sky,Ē
Election / For
Sister Mark Sandy
I used to wonder why
God only came to visit me on Sunday.
He must have been as bored with me
One hour once a week was once enough.
Godís really hurt nobody but the poor
and still they go on voting every year.
An echo not a choice.
Iíll deal with death when it comes knocking,
the same is true of God.
Even I donít practice what I preach.
If I believed there was no God
Iíd have to face the possibility of no me.
-from "In Someoneís