post the sixtieth, 2013

on this farm we grow roses,
pretty posies,
smell so sweet to all the noses,
on this farm.

in this house we keep quiet,
subdued riot,
sound so soft to all abidant,
in this house.

if you knew the secret would you tell it to the passersby?
tell the distance 'tween your lover's barren heart and pale blue sky?

on this farm we grow roses,
pretty posies,
smell so sweet to all the noses,
on this farm.

in this life we're spread handed,
stealthy bandit,
sight so clear to all who planned it,
in this life.

if you knew the secret would you tell it to the passersby?
tell the distance 'tween your lover's barren heart and pale blue sky?