Music Well – Dosia McKay, Composer, Painter, Writer

Reflections on Art and Life

Lullaby for a Foreigner

Lay down your strange head
On a soft cotton pillow
There are no feathers inside
That’s not how we stuff things ‘round here
Close your Baltic eyes
Dream of rusty gold wheat fields
Swaying in the rhythms
Of the French guy’s mazurkas
What’s his face?
He wasn’t French?
He just lived there in exile?
That is so romantic
So how long have you lived here?
Every three years?
That is so sad
How was your Christmas?
Rest your alien body
On silken sheets
Wrap yourself in the flag
And pledge allegiance
To our way of life
That’s not how we say it ‘round here
Women always go first
And they kiss them on the hand?
That is so exotic
Sleep peacefully, Outlander
Through this imported night
The dawn is breaking here
Noon is glaring over there
That is so exciting
Did you have electricity?
That’s not what we drink ‘round here
Lay down quietly, Traveler
I want to travel when I grow up
So I can run away from myself
That is so amusing
How are you?
Sweetened or unsweetened?
Hush, Outsider
Nightmares will not find you
You are at home now
Are you enjoying the weather?

©2008 Dosia McKay

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This entry was posted on January 20, 2008 by in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , .
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