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

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