Pilgrimage

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Warbles

Warble fly is a name given to the genus Hypoderma: large flies which are parasitic on cattle and deer. Other names include "heel flies", "bomb flies" and "gadflies", while their larvae are often called "cattle grubs" or "wolves." Common species of warble fly include Hypoderma bovis (the ox warble fly) and Hypoderma lineatum (the cattle warble fly) and Hypoderma tarandi (the reindeer warble fly). Larvae of Hypoderma species also have been reported in horses, sheep, goats and humans. They have also been found on smaller mammals such as dogs, cats, squirrels, voles and rabbits. Adult warble flies are large, hairy and bumblebee-like and brown, orange or yellow in color. The adults have vestigial mouthparts, so they cannot feed during their short lifespans, which … more »

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The woman with the painted eyebrow stare
With crimson rubber lips and copper hair
Clings to her cart down on Pilgrimage Row

And soon she'll roll it where the numbers end
She'll fill it up and roll it back again
Judy or Bridget or

Joan trudges home from her morning retreat
She's got nothing to speak of and no one to meet
But it's not like she made any promises
It's not like she's ever had happiness

Real happiness

And passing through a couple's parting hands
Her memories dance upon their wedding bands
Making it hard to go easy, I know

Remember when he used to call on you
And taught you all the things that lovers do
Back and forth, back and forth

Pinning you down with his capital eyes
As he lapped like a beast at the source of your thighs
Well it's not like you made any promises
It's not like you ever had happiness

Real happiness

And his words are like dollars
What's backing them

If I could leave this city
No lights, no talk, no pity

Just another month
Another year at least
Another pilgrimage

Joan, I know that you're the same as me
We're haunted by the same epiphany
Love is the only thing worth this decay

But nothing changes after twenty-two
Except the way that people look at you
When did I ever get

Old in whose eyes? In whose eyes? In whose eyes?
I will now count the faces that fed me to time
Well it's not like we made any promises
It's not like I'll ever have happiness

Real happiness
Oh, what's happiness?

And his words are like dollars
What's backing them

If happiness was just a pilgrimage

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