Leaves of Glass

//out of nowhere there often comes a caravan
Build a lumpy human/cut him down into a half a man
Dreams in humid nights of breezy beaches in a western land
Grains of sand I'm grasping in my palms are slipping through my hands
A skelter life/a lefty writes his blocks into the page's corner
Swelters by the river, sipping bottles from the grocer's shelf
Slipping soles and faded shirts wear paper thin/this page is warmer
Former stages swarm between his ears to form a grosser self
A wage to build a boaster's wealth/a cage of all ceramic bars
The pen swirls/ripples on the pages of the mage's spells
Wells of ink to stain the Leaves of Glass beneath the blanket stars
Points of light can turn a life to broken and serrated shells
To broken and serrated shells-- a toast of wine in glasses clinking
Cutting holes in Virgil's soles/leaves Dante in the river sinking
Caravans of married souls on shoulders leave their hazards blinking
Out of nowhere/left me on a colder road, my shoulders shrinking
Drinks and friends bring comfort, and we never had enough at two
Foaming at the lense/we chop our loops up into Us and Cs
On anything the rhythm throws/we always caught the steepest hue
He paints a hollow model of the town to put himself at ease
The seas he sees are never blue-- the waters rush in green and brown
The bars he knows/the words he spells/the stars, he sleeps/the shells, he throws
The flows of steady ocean currents keep the time beneath the town
The small fish in the river turns his shoulder down and dreams, and grows