Oh organic muse
Slope your lines up for me
One more time, use
Me like a pen against the pleasant crime
Which falls on ancient Free St
Then something once in the heat
Becomes a chime through the bookstore
You hook, and I become more sweet
And as I hit the floor
Organic muse
Slope your lines up for me
Once more
Slope your lines up
A ringing in my cup brings
Water to thirsty things
Which crawl so delicately across the top
Of my meditation, once more
Echoing silence of
An absent violence which sings against the sheet
Of ancient Free St
Oh organic muse
You warm me so powerfully
That I no longer wish to hold the daylight in my sights
You are the sunshine when you shine your light
So powerfully on the top of my meditation