We waited a century as the seasons turned
We counted and saved pieces of string
textile spaghetti firewire half a continent
plectrum of longing on the stretched strings
we plucked, tap tap tap
We longed and stretched and watched
the seasons turn to plant to sprout to grow
I flourish in your bed
flesh grows
spirits expand
like nerf explosions
the seasons turn
and the years
how many lifetimes?
We only waited a century.
When the sea shifts in it’s currents
we fishes hardly know it
the world; we swim in it
the liquid of our atmosphere
we move with it; it moves with us
we fly in slow motion
swept by the Gulfstream
hurricanes a distant echo above
turbulence tamed by the deep
we are calm on the floor
so much a part of it.
“A piloted wish”
transfixed trajectory
a missile of my own dreams
ramjet gobbling the atmosphere
sucking and blasting
no rear-view mirror
only ballistic desire
seizing the air, hunger
push forward
forward, spit flying
seat of my pants
stick pushed
between
my legs forward
kneeling in the sky
