Somebody,
Cut his hair and send him out to play.
Somebody,
While there is time, call him down from his high place.
Tell him,
Before terror marks his face, he will belong to the hunted.
Say
He will be betrayed, or high on some fruited hill die naked with thieves.,
Got to him
While fire is in his flesh: Taker him whole and kiss his young mouth into wisdom and healing…
Reprinted by permission of Myron O’Higgins.
learn moreIt is essential I remember
ours was a fair exchange.
We were a happy consequence
to paths of darkness
in a world
no less terrible or strange
for all our years of toiling
through it.
I valued you for what I took.
That burning in you bright
illuminated our collision;
your phosphorescence still
must be reckoned with
when night
heretic with your memory
trespasses.
God knows we were; though such love
did not a kingdom come to us,
each other’s wood of destiny has lit.
You found your clearing; I fathom mine.
We have had the best of it…
I’m the world’s most happy creature,
Tell me, what can worry me?
I’m crazy ’bout my baby,
And my baby’s crazy ’bout me!
Mr. Cupid was our teacher,
That’s the reason we agree,
I’m crazy ’bout my baby,
And my baby’s crazy ’bout me!
Parson, get your book out,
Get it ready in your hand,
Keep a steady look-out;
‘Cause I know you understand.
