Saint Leonard touched a Philistine
a sacred tongue, a perfect rhyme.
But even he was not much nourished
by modern love.

So I told her everything she does is divine.
And she replied with a blank expression
an abject lesson and making me feel benign.

Then whispered, "independence and indifference
are the wings which allow the heart to fly.”

Feelings I have had too often
still no plan and place to soften the inevitable blow
the rituals we know.
With the right revolting piety of tone
the word freedom
can make you want to lock yourself in a deep dark dungeon.
But everybody follows pleasure
Everybody gets somewhere
I swear
I wish I could be there
Away...

Now it's absolutely clear to me that solitude is not the same as singularity
But that's not why I'm lonely
No that's not why I'm lonely