Go

Go run your hand through
the pine trees, my boy
Go pour the sea through your toes
Go smell the breath of
the desert oasis
Or make a friend of a rose

Take several stars from
the nighttime sky
And let them explode in your hand
Go taste the moon before
it grows up
And then you will understand

5 March 2007

Radio Conversation

Seven Blue Dog Truth
This is Silver Shoehorn Pete
We’ve got a sixty seven on an apple pie
Three potatoes and a pound of meat
We’re gonna need you to joker your fiddle
Get your big cookie out over the soap
Call us back if you get a rare pickle
Tied up into your kitchen rope

Silver Shoehorn Pete
This is Seven Blue Dog Truth
I read you on the apple pie
We’re over at the car bird booth
We’ll use a kilo of the birdy gear
To round up all the six and seven
Check back in at cold tomato
Half past a peacock to eleven

Seven Blue Dog Truth
This is Silver Shoehorn Pete
Thanks. We read you like a drumstick
Over, out, and dirty seat

3 March 2007

Your Colors

All of your colors are up to you
No one can make your green or your blue
If your orange looks more like your red
You must work it all out in your head

All of your colors are up to you
Purple and white, yellow and blue
You must choose how each one will look
You won’t find the answers in any old book

Don’t ask your friends to help you out
They don’t know what your colors are about
You have to put each one in its place
Just there on the wall or all over your face

All of your colors are up to you
Maybe your green will become your blue
Maybe your black will just fly away
Maybe your blue will become your gray

You are in charge of the colors you’ve got
So throw them all, if you like, in a pot
Stir them all up into one lovely brown
And paint everything all over your town

3 March 2007