there are crumbs in my toaster
and around
tiny toasted crumbs
as I sit here by the kitchen table I'm watching the birds through my window, eating my toast
I'm thinking those birds would want my crumbs if they knew I had them
I've been collecting your crumbs for a while now
It's a living
when I call you at work
they say you're home sick
but there is no answer at your home phone, nor at your door, at your bar
nor at your friends place, nor at your cell
phone
the window's shut open now
birds are eating my crumbs and your crumbs
and leveling the floor to the ground
I can hear a sound as bright as a sound
as the birds lift me off the seat
and into surround sound compound in the ground
(compound in the ground)
crumbs are running water
crumbs are running water
crumbs are free as running spring sounds of water, of banter
as an aquarius chanter
like consuming birds
