The Heart Is Me

the world's so blonde on blonde
in my spacy head, the ice runs rivers
as it changes back to wine and back
to blood. Lots of folks talk about
leaving the valley, tell me I'm static in
the plains but its an oh no never mind
kind of thing. I'm up at dawn here
with a lot of rain headed towards a
runoff to the Big Muddy and Illinois
and Lincoln's ghost and a half a dozen
stories I 'll never get time to write
just make me smile at the crazy
suggestions. It's a sweet world sam
it's so blonde on blonde. It's this room
on Scarritt for a thousand nights
like this. It's a change in the inland sea.
Its rivers and kisses flowing from the heart
and the heart is here, gang.
The heart is me.