Tarla walks down the hall
And when she walks, sometimes she falls
Tarla makes it whenever she can
And she listens to the flesh in her bag
Tarla dreams of the day that she will see
Mr Chilk's eyes down the hall
What she wants is not that hard
Mr Chilk is a political man
And nothing will stop him, nothing can
Even the lack of vital tissue
cannot sway him from his vision
And his mission and her satchel
are unstable and yet central to the issue at hand
And Tarla walks down the hall
And when she walks sometimes she falls
She gets up
And Tarla walks
And asks herself about the ox