Wanna,wanna, whoop de loop.
Hold my baby, kiss my mom,
dance the way I used to do.
Desktops, blacktops, cut and paste,
speed down hills, learn the rules,
Sister Saint Marion, married to Christ.
Sixteen, life-green, pink tights, Swan Lake
An Italian summer, a Venetian romance
NYC my campus, Matisse, Philip Glass
Mountains, desert, New Mexico’s gold,
headstrong, headlong, swayed by applause,
wandering through canyons colored by God.
Turning to England, the Isle of Wight,
rock seafronts in Cornwall, Land’s End of the world,
Pause for the Maritimes, soft greens, booming tides.
Ah yes, the good, but oh Lord, the bad--
heartsick, sickheart, drunk on the street,
had nothing but loathing when they lent me a hand.
Wanna wanna whoop de loop.
Breezes still freshen, Mustangs escape,
head’s working better, heart's feeling strong.