Second Installment

And I made it to White Chapel Hill again
none of you are welcome to come over again
so please
meet me where Saint Monica lay one day
when they were lying to her about love
amid the Glass War in the Sand
but not there again precisely in time
rather when the clocks settle themselves into their natural pressures
and the church chimes on the coast
avail themselves of old fabrics.

If you didn't act like morons
I'd be your friend
and listen to your stories
and maybe give you more than one cup of coffee
on days when the winter coast sky filtered sunlight through the sparse clouds.
If you didn't act like devils
I'd give you a gift
like a leather belt for the hips of your pants
and maybe a rose to carry in yer holster
but to tell you the plain and quiet truth
I am done with human beings for a time
since some of them did so many drugs
and tried to force me too
that those addicts turned into fiberglass
that will not float on the sea
but will just carry rays of sunlight
in the moving pictures
of the end of the race.

You can call me Hellcat
You can call me dear
don't think that I'm from the Junkers
don't think that I don't feel or overhear
I'm delivering a message
to the future with a poem
all it says is watch out for lying lovers
all it says is to watch out for their cold dead fingers
that try to play with your insides
because those people
were too dumb to know that the heart is not dinner
that where the heart lay there is sometimes
only dreams, beauty, and hope.