I was born in Babylon
Time stamped three a.m.
Maternity was packed and jacked
With what we knew as men
The fog was thick in Babylon
The day I came of age
It broke three hearts when I climbed the stairs
As the ink dried on the page
I’ve booked a trip to Babylon
To shush up chatty tombs
If I’m not back by Easter’s Day
Have Mother rent my room.
The Hour is Coming, and Now Is 