This is the story of your red right ankle
and how it came to meet your leg
and how the muscle, bone and sinews tangled
and how the skin was softly shed
and how it whispered, "Oh, adhere to me
for we are bound by symmetry
whatever differences our lives have been
we together make a limb."
This is the story of your red right ankle.
This is the story of your gypsy uncle
you never knew 'cause he was dead
and how his face was carved and rift with wrinkles
in the picture in your head.
And remember how you found the key
to his hideout in the Pyrenees
but you wanted to keep his secret safe
so you threw the key away.
This is the story of your gypsy uncle.
This is the story of the boys who loved you
who love you now and loved you then
some were sweet, some were cruel and snuffed you
some just laid around in bed.
Some had crumbled you straight to your knees
did it cruel, did it tenderly
some had crawled their way into your heart
to rend its ventricles apart.
This is the story of the boys who loved you
This is the story of your red right ankle.
-The Decemberists
We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it.
-Tennessee Williams
And though they were sad
They rescued everyone
They lifted up the sun
A spoonful weighs a ton
Giving more than they had
The process had begun
A million came from one
The limits now were none
Being drunk on their plan, they lifted up the sun
Forcing it off with their hands
The trapdoor came undone
Above our heads it swung
The privilege had been won
Being drunk on their plan, they lifted up the sun
Yelling as hard as they can
The doubters all were stunned
Heard louder than a gun
The sound they made was love
-the flaming lips
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
-Ms. Plath