#1 bahtsız bedevi

hold on, louise
          i got you something, it's green
          you don't mean nothing to me
          it's just not that deep
          stuck in your ways
          i don't got no time to play
          if you got something to say
          say it before you leave me

i'd never ask who was better

time is gonna pass and you are going to forget everything that was between us two (between us two)
          no, i'm not waiting for you but know, that i have loved for the last time (for the last time) 

and i know none of this'll matter 
          in the long run
          but I know a sound is still a sound
          around no-one

no one else in his family is a cat
          we are all human except for him
          he is excluded from most things 
          and no one tells him why
          he just wants to play
          and be loved
          he looks at us with wonder
          and disappointment 
          he says hello i am a cat what is my existence 
          what is that / why it and not me / please can you look at me and love me too
          can i have some of your food please i am sorry i don't like my food so much
          do you want to play with my toys? this one is my favorite 
          do you like me
          are we brothers 
          why didn't i grow up
          why am i so small 
          can you help me be happy
          where are you going 

i am something 
          i have been something 
          i was born something 
          what could i be?

tell me baby do you wanna dance?

jessica has a forehead scar from the deep end of a pool. i ask jessica what drowning feels like and she says not everything feels like something else. 

but how we moved from A to B
          it can't be up to me 'cause i don't know
          eye to eye, thigh to thigh
          i let go 

I teach my friend, a fisherman gone blind, to cast
          true left, right or center and how far
          between lily pads and the fallen cedar.
          Darkness is precious, how long will darkness last?
          Our bait, worms, have no professors, they live
          in darkness, can be taught fear of light.
          Cut into threes even sixes they live
          separate lives, recoil from light.
          He tells me, “I am seldom blind
          when I dream, morning is anthracite,
          I play blind man’s bluff,
          I cannot find myself,
          my shoe, the sink,
          tell time, but that’s spilled milk and ink,
          the lost and found  I cannot find.
          I can tell the difference between a mollusk and a whelk,
          a grieving liar and a lemon rind.”
          Laughing, he says, “I still hope the worm will turn,
          pink, lank, and warm, dined
          out on apples of good fortune.
          Books have a faintly legible smell.
          Divorced from the sun, I am a kind
          of bachelor henpecked by the night.
          Sometimes I use my darkness well—
          in the overcast and sunlight of my mind.
          I can still wink, sing, my eyes are songs.”
          Darkness is precious, how long will darkness last?
          He could not fish, he could not walk, he fell
          in his own feces. He wept. He died where he fell.
          The power of beauty to right all wrongs
          is hard for me to sell.