the headless man drinks at the table
he lets his memories fall to the floor
the poet half past three
is well drunk by six o'clock
outside
his beard grows red and long
outside a mother horse hears another song
another song
as a young rabbi he knows old age
immortality is perfect existence
as a painter he paints
his blue house grey
as lovers fly above their magnetic city
lovers dream
as one not two
that painter he paints his grey house back to blue
maybe he'll find his head
at the bottom of the bottle
maybe he'll sing
another song
another song

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