Immaculate

1/3

Immaculate. It’s what you do. Quite a record, tried and true.

You can’t see it, don’t believe it, but I”m here to say it’s you.

You would never ever say it; you’d just mutter, “I obey.”

Yet the ins and outs you go through, put it out there on display.


2/3

Immaculate, it just ain’t me. Tainted, tarnished, burnished me.

Unclean always is my plea. If a place, I’d furnished be

with castoffs, seconds. Well, not really, that’s a second thought that’s silly.

Nice things, nice me, all around, and not opposed to something frilly!

[Oh, and another thing. I haven’t been sleeping that well, so I tried a few things yesterday and they came back to bite me and I did sleep, but horribly as inside a curse, and the only dream-like thing that I remember is being asked or expected somehow to place two songs in their proper places. The songs were digits, like numbers but more than numerals, and I was just supposed to place them. Properly. And then . . . I swear I woke up between 2 and 3 a.m. in a hot sweat and gasping for some sort of air and I was singing this song:

Yeah, there are many versions out there and I remember, clearly, when Sixpence . . . released it, and I bought it, and still have that CD packed away in a hidden box. Don’t ask me why or how it came to be living inside me, dying to get out last night. IHNI]


3/3

Immaculate eternally. It’s somewhat more than you than me.

Ever ever what I see. It’s beautiful: just us, then  . . . 3