Interloper

I heard the coyotes howling from the downtown alleys, as the procession paraded away.

I was throwing salt over my shoulder, standing in effigy out in the rain.

I guess we'll all be turned to stone.

Nothing left but the ringing of the phones.

As the water turns to oil, until all the batteries die.

An interloper in an alien world.

I'm not at home and I don't want to be.

Getting older, getting further away from nature.

Drinking blood from a stone, with a mouth full of crow.

I've been laughing at the T.V. doctors and crying for the broken hearts.