Hummingbird

his goal in life was to be an echo riding alone, town after town, toll after toll a fixed bayonet through the great southwest to forget her she appears in his dreams but in his car, and in his arms a dream could mean anything a cheap sunset on a television set could upset her but he never could remember to remember me standing still in your past floating fast like a hummingbird his goal in life was to be an echo the type of sound that floats around and then back down like a feather but in the deep chrome canyons of the loudest Manhattans no one could hear him or anything so he slept, on a mountain in a sleeping bag underneath the stars, he would lie awake and count them but the great fountain spray of the great Milky Way would never let him die alone remember to remember me standing still in your past floating fast like a hummingbird remember to remember me standing still in your past floating fast like a hummingbird a hummingbird a hummingbird