With Every Science They've Got.

I’m going crazy with my words,

These empty birds

Pumping their wings out to space

Hollow feathers, blind abbreviations

Lost in the sky,

In the dim of the evening

One should have no more to say

But chasing dreams

Is a feather in your cap

And all these lies

And all these songs

Just won’t bring you back.

To when you were

A more flightful form

For a pieced together accord.

Something’s drifting,

But I don’t know where

Anyway, it’s got no chance

‘cause the currents always there


Just one large cloud

Drapes the sky

Orange and

Blitzed with the coming dark

It does not need to see

For it knows what’s been brought

And what’s been bought

Under the trees.


 A queue for a hymn

Of a blackout fistfight

In some odd alleyway,

Backed and lit only by stars

I see helplessness in every face

I pass every day.

Though it’s not our choice,

Nor our goals.

But that’s how the form has shaped us

Sixty, seventy years ago,

They were attached to the cord,

Yet still fed and clothed themselves.

So now, even the old aren’t great.

We’re not so slowly losing the way.



Corn fed cattle can taste the same

With every science they got.

The End

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