Even in the darkness, the white teeth of the hill continue to smile
Ivy crawls up a pale house, wrapping around the words repeated with purpose, captured, then abandoned
Men who died a thousand different deaths flit between the lights of a cerulean pool,
Their lovers and wives and mistresses arrange themselves on iron deck chairs, one leg bent, lips curled up at some sweet secret-
How lovely they are behind cat-eyed glasses, calling out for their darlings with a velveteen song.

It is good to live here, in the eternal summer of one's heart, where moments are dispersed pre-wrapped in the golden threads of a beloved memory.
I dangle my legs in the water and try not to fear having little left to want, for every breath of wind is a delight, and every fruit tastes of innocence, and the sun shines for he and I alone.
We sit side by side in a warm silence, and the white teeth of the hill above us continue to smile.

More than I can
Possibly try to handle
Is the raucous breath
That sears my lungs
Once in, once out
Is at first much harder
Than near anything
I have ever done

Then footfall softly
Creeps by my door
And oak's deep creak
Declares I have
A solemn visitor
And two crusted eyelids
Part ever so reluctantly
To discover who looks on

A smile sweetly blesses
My tear-stung face
As I recognize the love
That gazes down at me
Slowly, carefully, I rise,
And an arm meets my side
To take me gently up
Out of the darkness where I lie

Through those eyes,
Warm with patience
And caring support
I find I have strength,
Much more than I believed
I could ever keep again
And neglected legs
Find strength to revive

I find I can stand,
And so, of course, I do
Rising straight into
The loving embrace
Of the one who found me
So far lost in misery
Without a spark of hope--
And brushed my tears away

Arms wrap around me
Warm lips press
Softly on my head
And I hear a whisper
That I more feel than hear
Which tells me tenderly
That absolutely everything
Will be all right

Close your eyes to the flames of days past-
those trips to the great mountain,
the first time you shot a gun,
that evening drive home from the sea, tired and salty and content, made so many times it became one
Let your heart jump only for a few bars when
you hear music that is now a memory
Or when you are handed beer that tastes of a warm afternoon spent fishing-
Close your eyes for a moment only,
lest you be consumed by the flames you feed.

American kids
Drive Japanese cars
With loud cranking music
30 Seconds to Mars

Wear Italian designer
Hipster blue jeans
All apart of
The American scene

With the sporting of tats
Bring on the change
Imagine that
They now all look the same

American kids
Frequent Sushi bars
With piped in top forty
From English pop stars

Spending minimum wage
On German beer
Names they can't pronounce
Cause they're not from here

Try as they might
Can't point on the map
Where they have been
Nor where they are at

American kids
You can't understand
Because they are
American kids