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The Servants

Squid on my stomach exploding fat

Lying on my belly pretending that

I was a whale

Washed up on the shore in a sea blue coat

And a silken streamline pink and mauve

I drank from the grail

Don't turn your eyes

Away from the window

It's a see-through disguise

On the pillow

The eye looked down as a hulking mass

Spawned by the linger of floating gas

That clings to the lungs

Close up all light with a curtain tug

Follow the trail of the ceiling bug

And entwining tongues

Don't turn your eyes

Away from the window

It's a see-through disguise

On the pillow

Dark eyes stare from the same place where

My head was bared in the icy prayer of nightmare

Call up small to a tiny ball

Or out to the hall, to the staircase fall

Hear a distant call

The size of the bird was an ocean squid

I understood it secretly shared between

Me and the wall and the record and you

One and all grown askew

But there's you and the ten or two i've seen

Cream in the ashtray

I take back the pictures to my dark hideaway

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