heraldry, and then some

Carry me through my streets
so I can smell the wonder
of my people

They wave and they vomit
through sheer love, I assume,
palms open showing me grace.

I hear the squelching civilisation
groaning orgasmic in their deference;
it’s a bit much, but it will do.

They carry one another,
even if asleep,
to get a better view.

Fireworks tear by me;
a celebration! I wave at the
gritted smiles and they wave back.

The dirt makes them happy,
and they sling it to share,
from up their burnt out, leaning stack.

Drones.

Lock the door and let that light subside
While I play my song
Bang fists on the table amid the din and hiss
Sweat performs on my brow
And on the linoleum
Like a memory of action
I regret quitting smoking
And my fingers are brown with the nostalgia
I can fly
For a while
I can fly
I can fly
I can fly
I remember mother hit me
It was sweet for a while
Dad made me so nervous
Before the casket like a clam
Each movement is a digital silhouette
I am chasing somebody else’s dream
My music stops
My stomach sings disdain
I’m open to light
And the replacement says my name.

Indigo

Fire in this fine soil
makes me feel unworthy
to have ever heard your voice.

Self deprecating delusions
empathise me to you
as if you’ve never heard your voice.

Surefooted and unhinged
in a world of words
that tumble out of the walls.

A pick me up for certain,
let these rocks drench my tongue;
raise the refraction to that moon.

Placed in time that yields
not to you, let’s be children
forever and this fine, cold day.