Babylons eroded
Mesopotamia flooded.
Egypt dried
And America polluted.

Murderers and heroes.
Gods are liars
Man tell the best stories
Women dream reality
UFOs are from Earth

Life is Hell.

You are becoming the last person alive to have a pulse and not a cellphone charger.

You are the last voice I heard ever and the one I only needed.

Time are pieces of papers before fire.

And I use matches to unlock doors and free myself of guilt.

I cannot control floods or the turning of the earth.

I can only speak for fires sake.

I can only speak for tomorrow, if I gain a spark for today.

We can burn it all down
And kick the sand in the deserts around the Nile.

Or banish Gods
And scorn men.
And let women dream.

You can live in Babylon or live back between the Tigris and Euphrates.

Or drink from America's murk.

But we are looking at these keys blazing.

And never looking back, dropping them in doorways.

To ash our cigarettes in the rubble of yesterdays pain.

Together.

I watch actors make rules to love only to break and reshape when others enter stage.

How many walls to build to break?

4th
16th,
64?

Solar eclipse wore the chorus
like the string show,
that pulls on his connected joints to the plot.

Sandbags releasing more tension
than stent  
   to artery
       to a heart,
a BURST
               of emotion across this platform,
       rain into the audiences eyes in musical crimson cascade shards of glass for sentimental effects...

That plunger pulled precision ******
from the veins of the actor,
shamed to have said, "I love you", ever again.

Shame on the red spector , the actor and the writer. All shadow, casting doubt into what it means to relate,
to touch.

Passenger on leave.
        Take to whatever may stead.

Your foot steps  
         Time lining distance in hair and laundry.

From galleries
     or hallways,
Or with neon silhouettes.

You're on your way
    And I can't complain.