Call

grace escapes the fading scene and
limps on
into this

frequency of unstated
desires, unwired
reverberations
designed to set fire

to what is heard when
what is caught is
a light from
some distant past

latched on
patch-work
paddles for dear light

towards a mile-stone
while the stone turns to mud
and shine dims

to a cloud of forgotten lands,
planets spin
spilling vibrations
who hears them

and if
then what becomes known
isn’t what

if
in the
pop-culture

and this
hurts
friends, families,
that

think they
know, go

to church
school
college,
education as necessary, education
as plastic wrapped beefsteak

a slim difference when
policies’
drool keeps something from
escaping air, held

back by a
slow-heart rate, while
Syria

the air

while pipe lines
assign hope new places and
resign alternatives for as long as possible, someone

somewhere doesn’t want us

to not own
a house nor a tool
without a heat vent
without a bill

imagine

as a document to what
or when, who
is afraid of legalized activity, in
which all electric pulses are
equivalent

the chimes of freedom have become drones of
migration, now, time’s
up

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