Holopaw Follow

Foxes scatter in the park
from where they gathered
under fake gas lamp light.

Slender fingers drop...
nails (to the quick) strike the keys
scattering the meadowlarks
held in nervous patterns above the trees.

Oh, Wilderless, oh, hedges hedging me in,
have you heard the whispers from the vines,
"The foxes gather tonight."?

Oh, Wilderless, jackboots sweep the park,
flashlights find the coins reflecting
a thousand points of tarnished, copper light.

Oh, Wilderless, who blew the whistles till they shined?
Who tipped the meadowlark?
Who threaded daggers on the vine?

Swept tresses, black lacquer reflected his shame...
saddled up an Oberheim,
collapsed into a march straight away,
pinball hip thrusts,
birds pour from the trees in gusts and waves.

He gallops towards the chorus.
He always breaks at the chorus,
skips to the refrain.

"It's all over, all over, all over."

Oh, Wilderness.
They tried to smoke you out.
You blew it back in rings and curls,
now tangled in the fake gas lamp light.

Oh, Wilderness.
Hollows echo back.
Flashlights find rubies reflecting,
spark the burrows, otherwise boot black.

Oh, Wilderness...
foxes deep, deeper still...
burrows open up into crystal caverns,
now flooded with the early morning light.

It's all over, all over, all over.
It's all over, all over, all over.

Foxes scatter in the park
from where they gathered