Billy

Yes

I have sung young

And handled blood toned tongs

And driven death into song

And driven song into breath

Brandished the gun

Shooting the lung

On the face

The stomach

Or the heart

Have done everyone

Much more than once

No kidding hon

No joking son

Flooding mountain

Come to the valley flood

You brung water and blood

Undertows of mud

Undertones of swallowed love

Like I swung young

Like I sung young

My mother myth

To magic sprung

From zeppelin sponge

Her red hook

Cut out

My hungry tongue

Tumbling froth

Lunge mountain

Lunge mountain down

In banks

Out of banks

Wrung the last

I could wring

From my heart trust

Done the most lust

I could

To make the sounds

Sound sung