to whom was once concerned:
back when the electricity tried to keep up with you and your veins pushed caustic solutions.
used to stand in front of guns of your own metal to see your strengths eye to eye.
would march through the streets of your own rebellion and give rise to the fact that youd changed your mind. to look for a fight, and a fight you will find.
walk the top of the library building looking if thats where they keep the books on Dying and Killing.
but never was there, from you and the air, so youd say:
'maybe they keep em between here and the ground, no better time to start flying than now',
broke-necked pile youre found.
my son, the ded, and i AM you.
my father, he, Time, he had watched her, she, Death,
& they shared in slaughter in birthing my breath.
free like a still-born still floating in slime, like the last moment before life, before death, too divine.
when im no one ill get mine.