Astron Chapters

Three hundred years down the road and we’re still picking up the slack from the days of loss and vacation and the days of dreams and sleep and whistling canyons where the speeches of our ancestors clutter our ears

They fill your head with nonsenses as you fill your pockets with silver thimbles, worth a dime or a piece of bread

So mark your sentences with red flags of occupation

As once you were there so you will always have been

Speak swiftly and softly and curl your lips around the sink

And scream into the holes that so muffle your passion

Diluting the sound that makes you stand

Cracking the foundation so to leak in the sand

Crumbs and bristles itch my back

Lying backwards on a limb of risk

And white and black make a mixture of tones that eventually lead to songs and beauty

And gray

Oh, what is the middle name of Father Time?

Oh, where can I go when I’ve got no place to stay?

Piles of leaves are trash to the eyes but deep inside holds beauty

Laced fixtures attached to the scene

Tape and patches and right-clicks fix

And fix

And knot and singe and cry when they aren’t perfect

Masks marked with glue stains and false identities

Parties of fowls who aren’t fit to be fed

To feed to

To die

To live

Stuck in the purgatory and in the limbo of time

Fight and sing and damnit keep living because the ground is still moist

Live because the threads of our ropes are not yet frayed and we can hang on to the monkey bars in this zoo and in this asylum and in this park of evergreen trees

We can swim in the bank and we can sip to our pleasures

To our forefathers

To ripped feathers of eagles and hawks

Because faces so rounded and marks so raw

Because boulders in pockets and rivers so cold

Because of key rings and ringed keys and ruffles and lace and tan

Because dreamcatchers and milk cartons and outlines and

Because I can’t park in a straight line

And I can’t count

Because napoleon invaded Egypt in 1799

Because life is a heterogeneous mixture and you can tell the layers and the lines and the marks of my ever-growing escapade and the acts of espionage committed daily and

Because because because because

Yolo? Oh no

No no no nonoononononono

Because a hurricane never stays in the same place forever.