It’s words on the walls –
always had me going,
but words on the walls
spoke of truths and lies . . . and cats and wars and messengers.
The words meant everything
but held something
as if by weight it could bring the walls
Hairline c.r.a.c.k.s across thousands of good paper
cut through stories,
cut them in ha/lf
that separates the kids from their fathers, the mothers,
the cows with their golden bells and red apples shining in woven baskets,
taking you on an Oz journey
and spins more words on threadbare carpets.
Words in pictures and pictures in words,
are the real truth,
are the real doorway,
to all you need to know.