are we allegory
are we poem
are we become
the monster we despised
when we were kids
under the bed
dogging us
saying, ‘hey man–
when you gonna’

my brother says
I over-analyze
the situation
that people are simpler
than all that
blood and ache
and resistance
but I say the birds
still sing to one another

we are merely
listening in

do nightmares chase us into day

sunrise plus seagul

the sky changes
from black to blue
layers of cobalt and cerulean
over flames afar off
my horizon burning off a nightmare
that chased us through the night

running for home
over sooty streets
we were not overcome by the dark
aquamarine dancing with apricot
thoughts of the new day
hopes that the sun will ignite us

for we have become
day sleepers over time
all of our late-80’s hopes
riding on blue and grey clouds
whilst melon and tea rose
slice the sky

here and now

the birds brought comfort to my window
as if they knew what I had done
(I used to think I was nice)
my empathy unrivaled-peerless

I must have lit myself on fire
signaling to the others (that we)
were finished. Showing up
day after day, like vultures

I do not lie baby. And
I will miss you (painfully)
This circle of regret
broken up here-now

now while we can get out
now that we can run

to drown

this room echoes
last night’s chatter
and the birds’ calls
before the sun rises
echo and repeat
each line so polite
so cutting in its precision

you called me friend
but you have left me here
to drown. Please do not
call me mate, I might
lose my grip on the buoy
all that is between here
and landfall, all I want

is a friend who is truthful
and to give in return

and birdsong