We ask to speak in spurs of moments,

it always sounds reversed

as if nothing else is cursed as well

our cells and ceiling first

we sink in heights; in urgency

still we're living worse.


how in the hell you're always heard

when we've no path

we follow hers


I cried to the window once again,

then repeated the curse words.

She talked only in verse to say

to be is to be nursed

and "I'll give you a fee, hand over

crafts or do be burned."


It's not the queen herself we serve

for honey sweet

is well deserved


he begs us some with herbs for leaves,

sings us songs that blur.

And in the light

his hands get a shadow

and that one mimes a bird.


You know we sacrifice don't mutter

yell what you deserve

it's always night it seems, my gutter

gold shines e'en in dirt.