74: O Holy Might

As if she was a saint --
she isn't.
She wasn't, and won't.
They stole her from daylight and us mortal ghosts.
But like joan of arc or dare we say - Jesus,
we'll praise her and praise her
based on famed reputation
you know: word-of-the-mouth
with those gaping lips.
she was wonderful, yes, and she will be missed.

And she's lucky to get off on such a head start
with accomplishments, maybe, and the fakest heart.
So let's patronize her, our city's tragic story.
Make our own sacred connections
in the heat of the dark.

73: I Saw

So he looked like he was staring at me,
glancing at my general direction. And I loved
that feeling secretly, personal and biased.
Uncertain but hopeful, imaginary.
Songs were floating out to our ears
but you were the source of it all
and feeling so close to those rails,
never having conceived it all before.

It was nice to pretend that I was the only one there,
I didn't even look behind.
Make me smile
and play those sounds
for a simple thanks
from me to you.