Mercy

amazon i am
and amazingly i
keep pulling the chord
on the yes way
slice my breast off pull
the bow back and
will c u l8ter

all us
peoples like i we
with eyes of a foghorn
we're snipped in bits
and lost in a sea of tough
old as the trees, the trees

from olden way back
when all of a sudden we go
explode! and there's a maybe
perched on our mouths in techni-
colour the beautiful brown-eyed ex
tinct kind with poetry in his
guttering

and like figures from a cuckoo clock
we all creak outward
into the whole wide world
get smashed up into a million billion
cracked crockery droplets

and i don't know about you, i don't
know, no
but i would say,
(and with my hand on my <3 and everything)
i'd suffer for it in an always and ever of an eyelid