You don’t know me, he said
and tapped his tambourine head
I am so lonely,
you thought you could swallow me
And then safe inside of you, perhaps I’d build a home
like Geppetto trapped, carved a nest out of whale bone

You don’t know me,
he said to the shooting star
The only thing worse than blacking out
is waking up just where you are
I don’t belong to anyone, I don’t belong to anything
I put my breath into my song, keep my death in front of me

Forgive me if you can
for reaching out with a phantom hand
I am a broken bottle behind the stadium
far from the corn and wheat,
far from the swaying trees
I know the wind must have its way with anything that thinks it’s free

You don’t know me,
he said to the swinging door
You used to look like Montgomery Clift, he reminded the mirror
I know how you got so sick,
the mirror hypothesized,
but he’d already turned his back and then he rolled his eyes