Strange tongues comfort me Darkened rooms calm me down Make overtures to your insanity Good to have friends around Fear follows in the wake of sleepless days Foul yellow fright as thick as mayonnaise Excretion in endless oceans poetry In your motion, music attendant, help me Citadels of concrete Already your cold iron hearts are rusted What wrecks How Snowdon-sculpted smooth you seem From the soft touch and tap of children's games And laundry bundles shoulder-hugged You are the stuff of base foundation For folks' sake, it's not enough When the world was young Moons made smiley faces Stars, angel eyes, we know better Mendels' sons and processed daughters Cloned in uniforms of flesh Grow like pinks from little cuttings Planted in a soil of self