Cool Purple Mist - John Vanderslice

Late spring rain, cool purple mist

Strawberries big as a baby’s fist

Earth is soft and it yields to pressure

The moon is far too bright to messure

Comets crossing overhead

I wish that we both were dead

Hard times that you’ve seen us through

Selfless heart that beats in you

The things you say to comfort me

Your offhand virtuosity

Your pale pink lips, your face flushed red

I wish that we both were dead

Eyes green as watermelon rind

The artless way you speak your mind

New stars were born for us tonight

Old sky pitch black, new moon bone white

I heard the evil thing you said

And I wish that we both were dead