Ear to the ground I sift through piles of fallen letters Copying keys, roll down my sleeves A part of the hanging garden of the city Downtown the sounds of single people Doing nothing
Nose to the wall I follow paths of tiny fissures Falling trapeze, the Japanese Are watching the garden growing on an island Surround the mound and run your fingers Through the filings
Nose to the wall I follow paths of tiny fissures Falling trapeze, the Japanese Are watching the garden growing on an island Surround the mound and run your fingers Through the filings
Ear to the ground I sift through piles of fallen letters Copying keys, roll down my sleeves A part of the hanging garden of the city Downtown the sounds of single people Doing nothing
