She's hidden her babies away
Their soft, gummy smiles
won't be gilding the menu.
The deer fly, the sand fly,
the tsetse can't find them.
The goon from the Stasi
is left far behind them.
Their delicate derma
won't witness a ray.
She's hidden her babies away
She's hidden her babies away
No 'Raindrops on roses'.
'Whiskers on kittens'.
They refuse to be blinded
by Rubens or Poussin.
They'll hardly be boarding
the 12:10 to Tucson.
Is she shaking them hard
in dry run cabaret?
She's hidden her babies away
Ho, Ho, watenay
Ho, Ho, watenay
Ho, Ho, watenay
I'm closing in.
I'm closing in.
She's hidden her babies away
And why bring them out
with no shelter to offer.
The nurseries and creches
are heaving with lush lice.
Bubonic, blue blankets,
run ragged with church mice.
The Havana has died
in the clam-shell ashtray.
She's hidden her babies away
She's hidden her babies away
From posed, high,
pelvic bridges.
Pearly bone
mountain ridges.
No hiccupy silence
to finger their traces.
No colicky moon
shines bright pain
on their faces.
She has slipped
through the dark
like a mother moray.
She's hidden her babies away
Ho, Ho, watenay
Ho, Ho, watenay
Ho, Ho, watenay
I'm closing in.
I'm closing in.
I've come searching,
from far and away.
A r-e-a-c-h-i-n-g,L-o-n-g-A-r-m-e-d
vet ape
feeling hard
for a breech birth.
I gaze up at the night
at the asterisk's blazing.
til they straighten,
and like tiny spines,
fall to earth.
I bite down on this
as I dance
and I pray.
She's hidden her babies away
(Ho, Ho, watenay is a traditional Ojibwa Indian lullaby)