HARPO SPEAKS
From among the clocks, you assemble like a bullfrog You’re a music box, paintings grooving to your tunes Smarter of the gods, silverware spills from your coat sleeves Mustache the facade, drinking whiskey with the moon Swimming beams of light, plucking songs out of the ocean Fireflies play the night, luminescent glissando From the shadows jaw, speaking paragraphs of silence Bathed in cinema, cosmic void sewn in your clothes As the air turns green, with a horse for a hotel room Whisper to my dream, sail away you crooked star
