Twain
Longing
On Tuesday the doorway is opening and closing
Her body lives wild as my body's dozing
Alone in a tent on a cheap plastic chair
Dream of angels, of angles of hair

On Wednesday the doorway on distant horizon
I wake in the motel room as the sun's rising
Her eyes are retreating, her hands are retreating
If I were a thinker as well as a singer
I'd sing you to laugher and laugh you a thought

To think me a lover I ought to be bolder
I ought to be brighter I ought to be braver
I ought to take care of my heart for it can't help it self

The doorman looks at me like I don't belong here
He's figured out quickly what took me so long
Took so many long years to become and accept:
I'm not but a shadow of a dream I once had

I once fell in love with the beauty of living
Which that night had taken the form of a woman
She transformed my being by simply existing
And artfully taught me a love for the meaning
Of living and loving and loving the living
And left me a loner to lonely search
For my own way of giving that gift to the world
All in a quick glance from a strange hearted girl
Of the north beach
A decade goes by without any changing
I enter her living room and fail to notice
The paintings on the wall
The wall of the hallway
There's not to notice but the one who is sitting
Inside army coat worn over rainbow sweater
Whose jeans are cut shear as to fray around the ankle
Whose ankles are perfect who's fingers are perfect
Whose eyes are delightful as to chortle the angels

Some like the gambling and some like the scheming
Some like to spend their days dreaming up ways
To kill off the dreams of the dreaming young men
Who's city apartments so threaten the dreams
Of the ones who like gambling and the ones who
Like scheming
I love her endlessly, gambling and scheming
I'll dream up a key
To open all doors
And once more transported, finish my days on the bay