alpha
wave slaves in the mechanical mastery of rust
we
have been scouting real estate
outside
of Eden ever since
we
first laid down on our backs
and
looked up at the stars
with
reach in our eyes
even
if we ever find a place
that
would have the frenzied
pace
of our loose handed grip
would
we have grace enough
to
say thanks and not race
the
ripples to cages
in
the rages
of
planting flags
and
crooked lines
in
the dirt
that
say maps
are
here to keep
the
dead alive
of
possession
would
we still have
an
obsession to know
how
tight we can
bind
ourselves
to
parasitic divinities
all
with the names of knots
and
fair games to be played
in
a wink and a nod
to
what words don’t
ever
have to say
for
us to know
that
what we all seek
is
that surrender
without
a fence
with
just enough light
to
burn beauty
into
the ash-turns
of
silhouettes and smiles
and
to hold wishes
looking
up at the stars
pouring
their songs
onto
the bubbled hisses
we
call the kisses
of
our modernity
and
humanity
washing
upon the shores
that
dreams wander off to
EJR
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