I’ve hidden long enough in the world of work.
Now my work is my world.
I’ve hidden long enough in the world of work.
Now my work is my world.
no the gunfire doesn’t often interrupt my dreams
but what is broken is by this old man hip
its constant grinding, lost and falling
like my wife’s sense of safety
like bullets cops don’t hear either
no lord no we’re not choking out / the air
it just strangles a bit / this asphyxiation
smoke from above the far north border
rolls rolls rolls / last night’s waxing gibbous moon
shone through / later maybe tomorrow later
there will be rain from ash-salted clouds
and we will hope it will clean us / maybe redeem us
and we will hope this will be the last
we will have to erotisize extinction