Moon Man Masque (The Grey Tea Party) It is misconception that beauty can dance in a shroud of death and that a killer can forget his one and only breath but now is not the time to wonder quick queer fancy for tonight we march and we don’t come home till the lover is dead We kiss the rosebuds of the whiskey bottle we reel and hide we swim out to the island build a set for the hand of rain twilight all the stars with knives in their backs Press against the earth and feel it swallow us in its mothers embrace feel it rein our souls, and skewer out our bones and leave us perfect leave us god We’re all strangers, all niggers, strangers in a strange stone face There was a murder on the streets and the cold grey pavement, now a crimson child, running and playing down Quick son, where’d the killer go? He jumped in my soul, and he went down my arm, and my little finger, then he came out the barrel of this little gun now I think he’s hiding in the lung of that man, playing in that little red puddle over there What a silly man
