Monday, December 12, 2016

gunpoint.

i hold
a gun
not because

i don't know who
to shoot
and not because

i don't know how to shoot

but because
i wonder- this crime
is not one i fear.


if it must find me, than
must be awakening,

true love- beast or not.

there is much to see and i
will myself to-

so that the trees will talk
and tell me
all that they know

and so there will be
light. i've been convinced

it has not come yet, and that
this,
so far, is

a desert we walk
of sonic force
that prevents light

from coming true.

i suspect i am
being held in place
by force

and that force rules the world
which dislocates me

from nature. and i feel angry
that i might trust this; angry

that i know how to trust.
angry that i have a vague idea
of what trust is.

i will do something in pursuit
of the choir of sirens.
put out

the myths
who i surprise from under the waves

today.

we change places
as i demand it,
and they are the addict now- work

of the devil.
wrongdoing. love of the city.
slave to the fog.

i am singing.
song about light.