From the bolt she measured and paid
Four yards of rope, a triangle squared and laid
A cream-colored coil, a circle wound
She knew the yarn but not the story
The line was cincture bound

Clerical top and layman’s bottom
The fancy top is my pronotum
To hold me tight, arcanely tied
Binds up ego, holds in lies

Into my hand she pressed rope, receipt
I took them both with self-deceit
Rushing off to communion adventure
Unaware of my indenture

Somewhat stilted, self-aware
Involuting, standing there
Trying to be and love and fly
The more I limp the more I try

Meal is over, dalmatic gone
Alb laid by, cincture withdrawn,
The receipt beckons like a prayer
The note she wrote lays be bare

Grand loves yes, but small ones too
Seed the fields and spirit breathe
Small kindnesses, simple things allow
The pupil of the greater eye to see
The true I within the I

“Hey Mitch, what’s this poetry thing all about?” I want to collaborate with Blue Öyster Cult and I’m hoping the Öyster Boys will think this would make a good lyric.

Did you know I wrote a paranormal/mystery/romance book inspired by Blue Öyster Cult’s lyrical themes?  Click here to download it here for free!

The cover to my book “Chatters on the Tide” inspired by the music of Blue Öyster Cult

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