ana ng

make a hole with a gun perpendicular

to the name of this town in a desk-top globe

exit wound in a foreign nation

showing the home of the one this was written for

my apartment looks upside down from there

water spirals the wrong way out the sink

and her voice is a backwards record

it's like a whirlpool and it never ends

ana ng and i are getting old

and we still haven't walked in the glow of each other's majestic presence

listen ana hear my words

they're the ones you would think i would say if there was a me for you

all alone at the '64 world's fair

eighty dolls yelling small girl after all"