I.
At the coffee shop
down on Maryland
there's a gypsy dancing
with a severed head
and she smiles wide
at those who attend
like she doesn't mind
that her man is dead
As his blood drains out
and decends the wall
it collects and drips
in a bathroom stall
but she smiles still
as she slips and falls
a sound that echoes
in the empty hall
And I wonder now
if the artists intent
of the work's conception
and my sentiments
walk hand in hand
on gray cement
as a destined couple
or as failing friends
So our glances fall
and she smiles on
since my time is nigh
and my paper's done
but she's locked the door
to the blaring sun
and she grins at me
like she's having fun
II.
"Hand Crafted Bread"
reads a banner strung up in the window
Like that French loaf
was the product of elementary school hands
"Alright class, time for arts and crafts."
Or that sour-dough bagel
constructed by an extensive team of architects
Like that bread bowl
is a structure to be admired and dissected
before it's masticated and digested
