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Archive for October 9th, 2019

Tangled in the sun, the bird he flew
Came back, didn’t say what he knew
Came back with a song he knew only as a scream
Came back in a life he knew only as a dream

Wax in my ears, the siren quakes the sea
I don’t know what the sirens sing to me
Basaltic rock you wake dead or as a king
When you hear the sirens sing
Stuffed my ears with the wax from the bees
I don’t know what the Sirens sing

I ate a bird, something that flew
I wondered if it he knew he was through
I fly when I dream and that means I fly
People think they can’t, I don’t know why
Tangled in the sun the bird he flew
Came back didn’t say what he knew

Wax in my ears the siren quakes the sea
I don’t know what the sirens sang to me
Basaltic rock you wake dead or as a king
When you hear the sirens sing
Stuffed out ears with the wax from the bees
I don’t know what the Sirens sang to me

(Lyrics to the song “The Sirens,” now available on the Salon de la Guerre album From Sour To Cinnamon, copyright 2019.)

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The magazine split open between us
“It says here a couple must share values.”
Cosmopolitan broke into our fight like an outspoken drunk aunt
“If you can’t agree on religion or money, you’ll never agree
On anything else that matters,” she said with true hurt.
Well, sign the divorce contract on my back, then!
Helen Gurley Brown, the ghost witness to the tearing paper
And the rending pen.
Then three drinks of sad well silence
On the next page: “How to please your man!”

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