Way To Hit The High Notes

I spent ten hours dreaming

of you sitting on my lap.

Then when you were

singing I sat in the corner

and thought about that.

When it came my turn

to stand up with my

music-box voice unwound,

I stood my ground.

But when the good day's

made, and all the

scenes have been played,

I wreck my voice

as if it weren't a choice,

and tranquilize my eyes

with my throat in a cast.

Seagull sounds, at last.