isn’t life cheerful

the song says: isn’t life small
isn’t life so small
isn’t life long
isn’t life simple

this is where the song plays:
the song plays in a room burrowed
into the
moon

this is who lives there:
a paperskinned man lives there
he sweats in the yellow bulbshine he’s
coming apart and the song says
isn’t life small
isn’t life simple

this is what the world thinks:
doesn’t it look small down there
doesn’t it, down there, doesn’t it
look so
small, the song says
isn’t life long
isn’t life cheerful

this is what the man thinks:
to be the dust in the moonrise moondust to
freeze in the not-sun in the bulb of the
not-world above the world where do they
go and the man peels the glove from his
frostbit hand the dust of it falls to the floor-
dust of the moonroom under the not-
world around the world and he thinks:
isn’t life long
isn’t life simple

there’s a box of dust in the center of the
room burrowed into the side of the
moon and the brass hardware of the
box of dust can’t tarnish in the not-
air and the child in the box does not
age in the not-time in the room in the
moon that the paperman dug as his
skin sweats and breaks apart and the
song says:

isn’t life small
isn’t life cheerful