Gravy covers all things mashed
But not my heart
And turkey is the mornings new friend
As I rise from bed nude on a Sunday
With a five o clock shadow
And a throbbing sensation in my skull
Conjuring life death, and perhaps a bit of parsely
We never thought that time could give way
To such a ghastly apparation as this
Burned buildings where none wander
On hills in nondescript countrysides
Non descript because
Though I have seen them a thousand times,
I have not a clue where they are
Or why it is always spring there.
Or why the cows are so alone.
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