You called last night
To make the appointment
For my assassination.
You who have been my lover for so long.
I felt your long glass rod
Slide into the channel of my spine
And I could not bend
For fear it would shatter.
My clothes on the hook
Danced with the Death Mother,
And all your angry sisters
Pushed me around the house.
What spells must I cast
How much incense must I burn
Before I feel safe again?
All night long dead women
Sharpened stolen swords in the hall
While beneath the blankets I prayed.
And the shriek of grinding metal
Kept me from sleep.
Richard.. This is screaming... Felt every work like a knife to my heart.. Wow.. IMPRESSED!
I felt your long glass rod
Slide into the channel of my spine
And I could not bend
For fear it would shatter.
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
I felt your long glass rod
Slide into the channel of my spine
And I could not bend
For fear it would shatter.