Listen, Phoebe
Listen, Phoebe, to the wind I've made for you
out of ancient hopes & crushes
out of squirrels I hate birds I didn't
gather round to tell me my business
flashes that might be bugs at the side of my eyes
I jump away from things I do well
& things not worth doing
& things in gold on another man's rump
A wind that will find for you
a silver needle in green glass & that cat
Listen, Phoebe, we will stay away
spend hour after hour
wanting less until all that's life
is love until all that's love is left