They’ll keep telling you
That its your final chapter

But you know it inside
That you can do it better

If you light up everything
Backgrounds don’t really matter

So be the candle in this run-down world
And help everyone see clearer

Outside is gargling with rain;
A displeasing pitter-patter of cloudburst spittle,
You sunlight absent, serotonin vampire, dooming me into this inferior place while water flows into canals frying golden leaves that pass and pass.

I glare and I glare at the whiteness of this page; my to-be creation and what will I create?
Sunburned arc eyes, shuttered, flickered flashes
I recalled, ‘I am a creature of the pen’,
she said: ‘My pen is the best of me’. We share a name you know?

It was 1988, a blizzard hastened its squally flakes
during my twenty-hour wait.
They groaned, they rumbled against the frail hospice window; mother had always said.
A grating cry creaked that February night;
the blizzard was worried stiff.
shall I write about the night I came to be?

So there I am a sprout germinating in the dark,
Birth towards decay.
A natural occurrence, if you know?
I expected so much more.
there is so much more to say.

But I shut my eyes and I am rushing and I am dashing
towards the end of the horizon.
I drop myself into the pool of dooming sunsets,
Be swallowed into darkness; sweet comfort of the unseen.
And after I howl my yowl,

I let it
hiss the birth
of an unfamiliar
miracle

We are flowers blooming
In drunken apartment buildings
Millions of angels sing of your disembodiment
We are shivering in between twilight’s towers
While the dancing sunlight sparkles  
We wade naked in the forthcoming moonlight
Until these fragile articles descend
Disguised as candid footsteps and listless fingers
That linger softly upon the ground of our communion

Can you see the outcome on the wind
When the trees begin to dream
And we drift into states of imagination
Until I become handsome again
And laughing feathers resume their spiraling
We find concrete inspiration
In the mouth of a vacated pair of buildings
That sit in harmony waiting for you to invade them
What dreams may sing in your vacation homes
What words stolen become our anthem
When men let down their arms
And women see the stars
We become greater beings
Then we could ever have imagined