as I grow older
I start to understand the easy jokes
the ones that seemed too simple
the ones that seemed too silly
like slipping between warm sheets
I'm noticing my wrinkles are forming
right around the edge of my eyes

I always said that if I were to have wrinkles, they would be
be the crinkly kind of arrows that point at the eye
little mona lisas lasting longer than the performance

in paris there were so many gathered around
her and she was just a tiny fragment fading in a huge room
while the others were crammed to the ceiling, she had her
queens quarters, surrounded by all the admirers, fleeting heart flutters
circles of glee

in the night, the draft easily catches
mona lisa alone
mona lisa on the pillow

Bat Call No.2

I've been thinking about you little bat
and your tiny voice

and I realize it's not only you I miss
but me and my bat call

nothing feels better than calling
nothing feels better than loving
knowing an echo will bounce back

the flame licks at the darkness
dancing across the moist cavern

I was mistaken, the squealing wasn't you at
all little bat

it was the wood in the fire
squeezing


nothing comes from nothing
nothing comes from everything