From the recording Muriel The Mercurial


Heels, keeping time
to pavement, blackened
with nocturnal rain.

With downcast eyes, you
step into your own reflection,
into this dream sequence--

Caught in a butterfly net.
But in your right hand,
you hold a pair of silver scissors.

Do you remember what
you stood for when
your poetry was free?
And you gave yourself
completely to such whimsey, willingly?

Now, your paper wings are
folded in a rare stability,
which I know you value highly,
but what would it hurt
to cut yourself free?

How I cried the day you died
from swallowing your soul--
devoured whole.

Don't whisper love,
your dream implodes
by sinking into the woodwork.

But your words, which curl
like magic from your mouth
and from your pen.

Will you ever tire of saying
remember when?

Remember when you were
free to dwell in beauty,
free to risk the pain?

Come back to me love,
Come back and sing again...