| Jenny was gone
|
| And the moon blooms
|
| All shining
|
| As we dragged our panic
|
| Up and down the riverbed
|
| Sweating wild and weird
|
| In our Sunday clothes
|
| Jenny was gone
|
| Though I thought that I knew her
|
| And the rain came howling
|
| Out of Virginia
|
| Blue tick blowing the water
|
| Out her nose
|
| Jenny and me in the front row
|
| And singing about how heaven calls
|
| The kingdom of the animals all
|
| And all revealed to us one day
|
| Jenny and me on the hilltop
|
| And peeking at all their upturned bottles
|
| Jumping like leopards
|
| Jaw hearp teasing the brushfire in its rage
|
| Jenny came back
|
| And the wet road still shining in our eyes
|
| An angel clear and coronal
|
| Clothed in all that’s prodigal and strange
|
| Jenny came back
|
| And I thought that I heard her
|
| Murmur something about
|
| No men in Virginia
|
| Spat on the ground
|
| Like a letter tossed away
|
| Jenny and me in my dead truck
|
| And turning over
|
| Just where heaven calls
|
| The kingdom of the animals
|
| Scratching our heads
|
| Where the wolf would go to lay
|
| Jenny and me as the moon blooms
|
| Were closing and both her wide-eyed brothers
|
| Running like shepherds
|
| Dreaming the heat of the fields
|
| All in flames |