Poor Mother Hen
Thicker still the trees go the farther down the murder row In dreams roots weep a silent prayer still wondering who's been left up there Unaware and unprepared in the deep bog they feel agog and the grog descends Onto the mother hens who snoop and squawk and squint Not understanding the thoughts of twitching legs and the shells still left in beds Too soft of ground and no real heat but to hard and the boy begins to shrink The movie plays never loud or clear but wild and only into the left ear The plot it thickens and loosens and shrinks and grows In time his nose will get bigger while his confidence grows smaller And all the while still getting taller His mother kissed goodbye Her tears still flying And when he returns his legs are taller and his hair is longer And the sharp golden buttons of his green perfect coat are clean and shining An embrace of somebody Or the crumple of a sheet These women feel no respite.