all the trains have lost their cars and the miles sprawl in leagues
toward an alabaster eating the yellow from a black heart
as moonbirds swear fealty to deep light
and careen into blithering with all the noise of wounded camps
and the gifted cauldrons of our unspoken words.
there are flags in the twilight, resting on a spear at the foot -
of untold Otherness.
claiming a kingdom, ransomed to the Highest Believer
and tethered to a stone that adores weightlessness
but has too heavy a heart to simply float.
should oblivion be deferred, it would take a tide of blood
from a frozen clot. a burst of uncanny resolve
that inveigles the lost symmetries of alluring Dystopias
with a gentle grenade that has lost its **** mind.

THEN you can see the Exit
when it darks
and all thought balloons
of the truly Lost.

and get gone.