Johanna's High
Placelessness
Tape the movements of muscles That used to made us feel a ringOf peace suspended 'round the spineWhen we stretched beneath our orange-treeWhile the noises will be asleep,Both the bees and broken bones And bombs and trees under the gloomy salty breezeAnd all the gods of our very empty seaI shall hang on togetherKnees and soul to such a Grace,Then I'll stare at the TV to place Where I eat and rest and live and dreamOurselves like a countryThat's impossible to miss.
From Letras Mania