Tuesday, February 2, 2010


You went into the kitchen cupboard,
got yourself another hour
And you gave half of it to me.
We sat there looking at the faces
of these strangers in the pages,
'til we knew them mathematically.

Then we made our own computer
out of macaroni pieces,
and it did our thinking while we lived our lives.
It counted up our feelings,
and divided them up even
and it called that calculation perfect love.

So we made the hard decision,
and we each made an incision,
past our muscles and our bones--
saw our hearts were little stones.

We pulled them out; they weren't beating,
and we weren't even bleeding,
as we lay them on the granite counter top.

We beat 'em up against each other,
we beat 'em up against each other,
we struck 'em hard against each other.

We struck 'em so hard, so hard, until they sparked...

Hey, this fire it's burning, burning us up!

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M is for Margaret, who was swept out to sea...