I think that I’d probably fancy
the winding rivers of Zanzibar
with its twisted tales of innovation
whispered secrets of Man’s Creation
And maybe I’d even come to love
the swirling sands of the Persian south
scouring the wretched heat for bits of gold
turning grains of sand to pearls in my shriveling mouth
Did you ever know a man
that married the finger clenching cold?
I hear he spent his whole life with his first true love
dancing into shadows and counting the flakes of snow
and then he lay down to die
in her vast cool palm when they both grew old
But the best story I ever heard
was one about a little old lady
who shimmied in and out of the layered lands of Queenstown
I heard she slept with the milky white moon
and fed off the lands
Most people say she died too soon
Well, whenever she passed, she was probably the luckiest lady this world ever knew