pollute your feathers at your peril.
for the sky between scars is every unchallenged door.
and you are the symbol of that fear made flesh.
Life is Shorthand for “ Deal With It”.
our clowns are clumsy when the spotlights conspire
to illuminate the Jest. but we take the Stage
like Pirates made of stars… and weightless coupons.

All the all gone, comes back like a vengeful orca.
bloated with disheveled moons and temporal rifts
in the fabric of a Shroud of Turin.
we bleed where we stand for Nothing.
Sleep where Our Dreams are fitful with Awakening.
fumbling at Martian waterfalls, as we trade
the humidor for the Desert. happy as clams
in a pit of merciless flumes.
boiling with all the Irony of a good day
patched over the Hole
of Every Day.