Lorraine (Opening poem)

Seven blonde women

They gather in the square

They raise their hands up to the sun

Their skin is so thin and white

You know their fathers must surely be wealthy

I watch the others stand around and form a crucifix

A serpent of vapor

Some stray birds rise

The one on the end, the fine one on the end

She called me over, she pulled me aside

She said, You know, I have to make it all look different

It seems that every time I lay down

On it, and its like a snake in water

And when I look out of it,

It's like the one from last week

Was breathing again

And she said she had some white light

You know, she said that she had some morphine

But she didn't have no gimmicks

So she just took this razor

And she laid it on a white vein

And then she took a black orchid

And she just ripped apart that flower

And then she took the white light

Then she said, Hey, later for the morphine

She took the razor and slit open her white vein

She slit open her white vein

She put the flower through the slit vein

She poured the white light through the red stem

She put the white light through the red stem

She just poured it through the red stem

I was talkin' with my angel

I was talkin' with my angel then . . .