See? I can write poetry every day! Seriously, look!

2.13
Rooster’s Translation
(Sung as a sort of folksy tune)

Cock-a-doodle-doo
And how do you do?
The sun is up and shining bright!

Cock-a-doodle-doo
You know it’s true,
I do not sing at night!

Cock-a-doodle-doo
And how do you do?
Have you seen my lovely hen?

Cock-a-doodle-do
I’m feelin’ blue
When will I see her again?

Cock-a-doodle-do
And how do you do?
I’ll sing another song!

Cock-a-doodle-do
Here’s what you should do-
Come on and sing along!

2.14
Sitting in a Balcony

When the lights come up I realize
You are the not the handsome fling I hoped for.
I actually know you.
You know me.
We’re…alumni.
Oh, cruel house lights!
You signal more than the end of the play –
You are the end of a double daydream.

2.15
Old Chair

You’re sitting on my mother’s chair.
I folded socks on it.
Pouted on it.
Watched “Willow” a dozen times on it.
When we moved, we donated the chairs, ottoman, and that green couch.
And now you’re slouched on it.
You, with your blue sneakers,
Unruly hipster head of curls,
Furiously twitching on your phone
You’re sitting on my mother’s chair.
At least unbend your knee off the armrest.

2.16
Cloud Bank

Above the night cloud bank
Cities shine pale grey.
Like light sonar pulses, gently calling
We’re here.
We’re here.
I see you and smile.
You’ll catch me one way or another, darlings.