There was a three-story window that looked out
At an abandoned parking lot, and the faces looked in
At a crowd of spectators, all mouths open, all smiling.
The people were like rounded things, and the noise of the party
Was loud and translucent, and the Shadows of stone
Moved and no one could move.
The speeding train on the subway, was like the wind,
And it moaned like the wind, and the sound was awful-
And the teacher threw his temper out the window,
At the running cars, and the sound of the night was like
A whisper of trees that pounded on the forbidden grass of
And the silence was like a firecracker in the night,
And all reasons were not like shadows in the grass,
On the edge of things.
Some people are born bitter; and die a bitter death,
And people are too demanding, and bitter.
This salt is like the ocean, and the ocean is bitter because it
Holds all the fish, and sometimes, the fish die,
And the Gulf of Mexico is like a round circle in the middle of
Everything is treated with respect, and respect is in anything,
And all we have is our bitter bread, and the salt it came from-