Where there was music
not that you can trust the past
it was a morning one day
but it's not today
eyes are behind the curtains, drawn
like figures, stuck to pages
for worse, counting on video
and there is something Steinbeck called glory
a light version
that leads less to an eventual hole
then horizontal
let the previous twelve hours
wash the so-called strength
off of a face that contains one too many multitudes
as the literary idiomatic tension
won't be resolved in your lifetime
so consider the best option available
take off those clothes
let both of them close
and be like the rain
looking for the ground
and staying there until the night is done.
Roman Ryan 