The Lady of Nevous

At both ends the sidewalk be
Thrown dead flowers and dry leaves,
That bury the dust and touch the heat;
And down the sidewalk streets can see
To tiny building Bellevue
And down and out the children walk,
Staring at the dusty chalk
Blows to the house around the block,
The dark house of Nevous.

There she pierces, day and night
A square of skin with colors bright.
She has sworn a voice did cry,
A curse is on her if she might
Lay her eyes on Bellevue.
She thinks not of her cursed tongue,
And so she pierces one by one,
And never before had she sung,
The Lady of Nevous.

And dancing on a mirror hewn
That sits before her afternoons
Shows the phases of the moon.
On it she sees singing loons
Skipping down to Bellevue;
There she sees the ocean slam,
And there she sees the market's jam,
And there she sees clergy damn
Far away from Nevous.

But on her skin she still enjoys
To pierce reflection's twisted toys,
For lately through the static noise
A gathering of handsome boys
And marching, went to Bellevue
Or when the air was filled with smoke,
Pranced a group of unique folk.
"I am half dead from them," spoke
The Lady of Nevous.

She left the needle, left the ink,
She pained seven steps from her sink,
She saw the shadowed bouquet shrink,
She saw the smile and the wink,
She look'd down to Bellevue.
Down poured the ink and colors spread;
The glass broke right above her head;
"The curse is come upon me," said
The Lady of Nevous.

And across the ocean's still
Like some child growing ill,
Blind to all her screaming shrill --
With her navy blues' good will
Did she look to Bellevue.
And at the setting of the sun
She broke the metal, movements done;
Her boat subject to waves that spun
The Lady of Nevous.

Heard a lullaby so lightly,
Fumbled out her lips politely,
Till her pictures paled unsightly,
And her fists could not hold tightly,
Turn'd to tiny Bellevue.
For then she reached the eastward side,
Glanced by new husband and bride,
Crying to her song she died,
The Lady of Nevous.