Forest of Why

Craig with your legs so long wont you climb over
The fences and boundaries and bushes that have grown around
The sharpness of questions I pose to the sky that I
Hide from in my city building in the forest of why
In the forest of whys
In the forest of whys
But I miss the sky
Silk plastic cellophane a picture frame I hang from neck
Where I place my blame strangling my head from my back
Facing yesterday the mirrors they show that me that
Which I run from I continue mirroring that
Seeing that
Knowing that
The squareness of windows leaves no room to crawl
By cart-wheeling sideways I’d break through it all
If you yell in your sleep speak to my sleeplessness
Leaning towards hunger I don’t know how to rest
As soon as I step out in the veins of these streets
My feet become liquid my goals incomplete
The city’s adrenalin moves me for a while
Until I

Craig with your legs so long
Won’t you climb into the tallest of trees, With your hands round your knees
You belong with these fragrant memories
Of the ground as they reach towards the light, And they speak to your sound
(Craig with your legs so long wont you climb into)
and they speak to your sound
(the tallest of trees with your hands round your knees)
and they speak to your sound
(you belong with these fragrant memories of the ground)
and they speak to your sound
(of the ground as they reach towards the light and they speak to your sound)

In the forest of why,
In the forest of why
In the forest of why
But I miss the sky…..