Dina Absconds With Dan's Money

Up fools who dance in the muck of two bodies excited by scalpels

I need now the fire and the rain and the day long trek into the hovel

Room where the toilet and the fridge is empty and where

I see the bellow up a laugh old bellow white hair

There is always a little life here beside you in bed

And no amount of description will avail us of this world

Which is false

And the men with men faces and books

Which are false

And the women with educations to match boots to

Which are false

And the upright bridges on which the cars move

Which are false

And the horses

Which are false

And rivers

Which are false

And one form

 I take the unseen

And it is my soul

Oh long alone on islands

Shook from the unseen lines of trees

Alone I stand

To  best

a little axe to grind

Up the house wood and for the fire

up and knowing this work to burn

I spend all

Day jerking roots out and up and this is my fitness

This act

I am able to come fix myself five or six fixes

And never bathe and hate myself

Alone on mah island.

The arse the lungs

I know two more and eyes

Clean plucked out

And not hair out of twenty heads pig vile heads

And no one will come back excepting the vile.