Repeating

By | 1 April 2016
From a two floor skyline
An abandoned house talked to me
It said young man
              You are heroic
              And ten years old
 
Among twenty generations of friends. Friends will free fall away. Free fall up.
Free fall to walls with fifth grade speed to industrial paint behind second-hand fences
 
Young man, use quick knife tones. Be bone and brass. Be last laugh music.
 
You are always leaving. Always one change of clothes from the door. A life in escape.
 
Two floor skyline said you are the guide that dies in the middle
                                                                                                                             The friend more blues than skin
 
The face that cheap hotel schizophrenics can place
With 90 miles per hour right eyes
 
Among dry heat killers
Once children
Three feet high
And roaming
And repeating
And aiming
At cotton mirrors that hang on breathing walls

You are ten years old                           Tagging along                           Yawning at well-lit violence

Whistling tool shop songs 
You will be useful
 
You will be high and alone
Flying on a nephew dragon
From a twenty dollar family
In a sky that calls itself
Just more soil

Around walls That are just walls Except these walls Suggest you make wives Out of highs and currency Here the air is polite to sleepy glass and bullying walls.

Young man, You will admit That sometimes Suicide is power Some people live stronger as ghosts And sometimes the afterlife empties Billions of souls Enter objects Like playground bullets And abandoned door frames. Even broken glass will prove it has voice too. There are 24 hours behind your back

Look over your should right now Can you hear it?

The sound of drums punching themselves out. The sound of piano parts learned in between assassination attempts. Be bone and brass. Be bone enough for two souls. Be invincible again Suffer Red-eyed accents. Professional fingertips. Our gifted victims. Six in the morning beer. The first month of probation. -The shout at the wall See these words that shouldn’t be home

Look behind you again Be invincible again Be Windward Be a sad machete Be her son Be a thief Steal them back Laugh too long Never look away

The afterlife will empty And walk you home




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