On a roadside cafe the hunter sits,
the deep eyes skate over the bustling crowd
in search of the hunt that often outwits,
teasing the patience of the hunter abound.
...
Tweeter-ee tweeter-ee tweet
chirped the blue birdie,
I want something to eat,
I am so hungry.
...
On an island
stranded alone,
restless I rant,
where is home?
...
Do you remember me Mr. Malone?
I am your little Amy, now grown.
I lived two blocks down, when I was young,
and loved the sound and the roll of your drum.
...
Swollen cheeks,
blood-red eyes,
heart bleeds,
the head dies.
...
Every night she stands by the window,
peeping inside and whispering low,
Watching me with eyes, deep and green,
which have haunted me even in my dream.
...