everyone has been dreaming it seems,
except for me, i've just been in space
between the ax chop
and the executioner
who might know more about
the dynamics of power
than me
the blood moon stares at me
taunting me with kindness
reflections of fire chariots
burning out life
through detuning fibers
vibrating and pulsing
to every ding i get
green pulsations of contact
swimming through sea sides
and cyanide highways
to a ephemeral smog
utter through yr lips
and fisher cat cries
flying through night time silences
where the lack of words
separates truth from
the lies of the tongue
