Backstreet Girl 

"Don't want you out in my world, just you be my backstreet girl" --The Rolling Stones 

I'm half a shadow in your eyes
   always standing left of center 
I'm just tending a garden 
   of imaginary moments 

I'm just building a shelter 
   out of words and stones and pieces of poems 
   building myself up like a strong old sycamore 
   patching up the holes with green 

so when the dark comes 
when the sky turns red in the morning 
when the house panes rattle and shake 
when your backstreet, backdoor, bad moon, bad news . . . 
when your black muse comes raining round the corners 
   of my pale rusty bones
I can bend like the wind 
close like a marigold to your smile 
and all the while 
I'll be going deep 
reaching for the center of center of center 
under a fallen sky 

Then I can take your eyes inside 
listen to the birds fly south 
watch the fire burn down slowly 
without wishing for yesterday or tomorrow 

On some distant early sunrise 
I'll go back to those backstreets, those alleys, 
   the trail by the river, 
   somewhere just right of the coal black moon, 
   just left of a whisper from a twisted breeze 
and I'll go right straight back 
   to the light of the center of center of center 


Copyright EPG