Emily, Emily, where aRT thou now?
Can you hear us? Can they see us,
those with you—
are Poe and Bukowski?
We wring our guts from the foods we ate
We swallowed a rock we can't digest
The sharpest parts stabs our chests
We choke our tears to gasp for breath
Lost at sea, what have we chased?—
The seeds we'd tossed—have the beanstalks raised
the beast that slays the golden sun?
The rotten egg has spoiled the fun.
Our faces drawn—a bitter frown
Our heads, weighed down—a painted crown
Is it just us? We must have made
a wrong turn somewhere there...
We've meant to change this course we're on
If we turn here, will we stay long?
“I'll be your guide,” I hope you say—
Please don't mind me say.
Emily, Emily, where aRT thou now?
Can you see us? Can they hear us,
those with you—
are Poe and Bukowski?
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