I Ride Earth's Burning Carousel. Day In,

The One Thing I Was Good At Was Winning Scholarships And Prizes, And That Era Was Coming To An End.

And I A Smiling Woman. I Am Only Thirty. And Like The Cat I Have Nine Times To Die.

Love Set You Going Like A Fat Gold Watch. The Midwife Slapped Your Footsoles, And Your Bald Cry Took Its Place Among The Elements.

The Sickness Rolled Through Me In Great Waves. After Each Wave It Would Fade Away And Leave Me Limp As A Wet Leaf And Shivering All Over And Then I Would Feel It Rising Up In Me Again, And The Glittering White Torture Chamber Tiles Under My Feet And Over My Head And All Four Sides Closed In And Squeezed Me To Pieces.

A Black-sharded Lady Keeps Me In A Parrot Cage.