Isn’t easy Sister Pigeon
you could be screaming inside your head
This city wouldn’t know or care
Trust me on this
the connective cries of so many

Common truth alone is quickening
There are no tender arms
No listening heart
You can try to weave the impossible
from the possible
join the illusion of what everyone knows
Full of the luster of lies easily told

You find shade and balm in forgotten skies
the singing of nature bodes warnings
harmony of a million beats

Lean across the stanchion beams of reality
embrace the sudden shock of your lack of uniqueness
Clasp to your soul the unending pleasure
Scoop it up
Get a platter of wisdom
That dish they serve cold