She's hidden her babies away Their soft, gummy smiles won't be gilding the menu. The deer fly, the sand fly, the tsetse can't find them. The goon from the Stasi is left far behind them. Their delicate derma won't witness a ray. She's hidden her babies away She's hidden her babies away No 'Raindrops on roses'. 'Whiskers on kittens'. They refuse to be blinded by Rubens or Poussin. They'll hardly be boarding the 12:10 to Tucson. Is she shaking them hard in dry run cabaret? She's hidden her babies away Ho, Ho, watenay Ho, Ho, watenay Ho, Ho, watenay I'm closing in. I'm closing in. She's hidden her babies away And why bring them out with no shelter to offer. The nurseries and creches are heaving with lush lice. Bubonic, blue blankets, run ragged with church mice. The Havana has died in the clam-shell ashtray. She's hidden her babies away She's hidden her babies away From posed, high, pelvic bridges. Pearly bone mountain ridges. No hiccupy silence to finger their traces. No colicky moon shines bright pain on their faces. She has slipped through the dark like a mother moray. She's hidden her babies away Ho, Ho, watenay Ho, Ho, watenay Ho, Ho, watenay I'm closing in. I'm closing in. I've come searching, from far and away. A r-e-a-c-h-i-n-g,L-o-n-g-A-r-m-e-d vet ape feeling hard for a breech birth. I gaze up at the night at the asterisk's blazing. til they straighten, and like tiny spines, fall to earth. I bite down on this as I dance and I pray. She's hidden her babies away (Ho, Ho, watenay is a traditional Ojibwa Indian lullaby)