The Bear

A bear moved into the city, and all of the work dried up. Put it all in his pickup truck, and drove down the mountain. And he scoured the classified ads For a window with a view of the trees. Signed his name, got a set of keys, and the empty light of a room. And he said, "I wonder if this is what heaven is like?" "What if it means I'm more dead that alive?" "What would I be if I turned out the light, before night fell?" Bear walked wild for groceries, and everyone stared at the ground. Moving to the beat of the sound of the voices of the engines. And the sidewalk tore at his feet, and it hurt just a little more To open and close the door of the Bodega on the corner. And he said, "I wonder if this is what heaven is like?" "What if it means I'm more dead that alive?" "What would I be if I turned out the light, before night fell?" In the old days, we would up and run. In the old days, we were so young. Bear laid down on a park bench and stared straight up at the sky, Waiting on the first starlight in the space between the buildings. And he stayed awake all night, with the cars and the people, And his fingers formed a steeple pointed at the sky. And he said, "I wonder if this is what heaven is like?" "What if it means I'm more dead that alive?" "What would I be if I turned out the light, before night fell?"