Compass Rose

We were the ones that dragged the garden hose through the roses

To leak that dirty water down on the crusted ground raised up in fossil vertebrae

The transplant died when you moved it to better ground

The coffee pot won't stay hot much north of here

And that silty water filters slow over twice used grounds mixed up with the damn burnt Chicory

You dance with the ones that brung you, their names are we

Circle round the floor in a spritely rigadoon

You tune that piano up then you burn it down

Your belly button is nothing but a bitter scar