Slim sane Sally wrote me a letter in red ink
Recounted all my deficits and disglory.
That year we carolled we caterwauled all night long.
She said she still heard my daylight dingaling song
Dancing through the trees like a wise man's story
About gaps in our sacred knowledge that said: think.
I loved Sally and the way she rode the shadows
of invisible things, loved how she cast black stones
at devils rising from the quagmire of blue dreams;
I loved how she stared me stupid with her high beams,
a real visionary polymath, multi-moans
probably not unlike those of Rachel Maddow's.
Slim sane Sally kept me whole and lean and hungry
many years ago, back in the mother country.
