Booth
Before you were born you learned how to float with us
You found a womb and left so soon
And lost your hair, a phoenix from a faint flare
Frozen in the waking of an Eastern current.
We heard you speak in a new language
We're told you drink from an antique cup.
Was it traumatic? Did you open your eyes in a breach?
Of conventional faces that won't sing about their worlds
In another fortress that whistles like an ailing herald's call
From clenched fists to open arms that will bath you in moonlight.
And we still speak english
And we still speak english
And we still speak english.