HIGHLAND
PARK

"Where we learned the destiny of neon."

TEXT AND IMAGE BY
XXAVIER EDWARD CARTER

***Highland Park*** And you came here wanting, And you left here wanting, And you returned wanting, No need, For wanting, Opposed. * You came here. * Too shelter, As the storm was great, And the waters fierce, In eyes, Of the plague, Victims, Cataracts, Blinded, Tellers, And they say, Rumor has it, As it has always been, Trying to pretend, He grins steadily, The shit on his face erased only in somber moods, Only in sober times, Only in the rhymes, We will tell our children about you. * Rumor has it, The sun is black if you stare at it long enough, If you look at it, Closely, Knocking, Tapping, Wiring explosives to the bottom of pillars, Ready to bring the house down. * Rumor has it, In a panic, The band played on, You know in the movie, They couldn’t save themselves, Life’s vested interest, Drowned just trying to make it to America. * Rumor has it, This world is gray, And God is white, And unforgiving, And looks just like me, But is nothing like me, The man, His son, And some other fuckboy that gets paid to stand on stage, Saying dope shit, Spit in my mouth, Lips curled, Brow furrowed, Arms flailing, Big hand on my dick, As if time was running out. * Rumor has it, He built the wall, Knocked down doors, And still couldn’t get in. * Sad grin, Grown teeth on his hands, He worked so hard, Now they devour everything he touches, Eat everything that grows, Bite everything they hold dear. * Like an animal in headlights. * Rumor has it, The road killed his spirit, The time healed his wounds, And he lost the will to make it out of this place, This place of glass and steel, Stone faced, Now he sits at a desk, Pulling the hairs out of his face and makes lines in the sand, Trapped inside, Barrels, Black, Crude, Grease the wheels, So, One day, Rumor has it, He can leave this place, Where steel and glass, Men sit, Stoned, Facing themselves, In meditation, Clinic, White walls, Reflecting on pride and other things. * Rumor has it, Longer than all the rope they used to hang him with, The lines, Shorter than the ones he says, And, Rumor has it, He left it all behind, But not everything, He took it all, But not everything, He took an awl and pierced heaven and made the rain dance, Brought the world to its senses, The smell of dew, Closed rooms, And heat, Sweating, Bleeding, Perched on a stool, Taking a swing. * Rumor has it, You shit yourself, Just the thought of having to clean your history, Browsing for a good book to read, Chronicling your depressive moods, Making light of the hallucinations, Ill effected, Buy the daily news, Lady sings the truest words you ever heard, In a subway, Or on a street corner, On a bus, Stopping second before, Rumor has it, And boarding a plane, Where, Rumor has it, On the train, Where, Rumor has it, Left the station and never looked back. * Eyes burning, Crying rivers, Mud and mascara, The vivid picture of joy, Lost in another part of the world, Where your telephone rings, In frequency. * The song of time lost to some abyssal clearness, So clear you can see through it and almost see yourself, An alternate version, Where this is joy speaking, Bubbling, Like soap in a warm bath, The opalescence, Inside this shell of clearness, Tired, And still smiling. * When the waters come, Waist deep, Round sorrow, Ball of guilt, Lumps of sugar, Collared, And pulled to this place, Like another day will pass, More lights, Gas, Jarring, Loose, Collective memories, Diverging thoughts, Cycle through the manual. * Transmission, Radio, Flat tires, Talking books, Drawing pictures, Taking names, Clearing conscious, To have it, Bloodied again, Period. * Stains on tissue, Paper, Or another thing, No metaphor, No simile, As this is art in context, Like the city walls closing in, The police killing old women in prayer, And politics as usual, Stealing, Like the country sky closing off under electric light, The police fucking young women in cells, Black mail, Politics as usual, Like you can steal everything here, Make it yours, Turn it, Clear as daylight, And midnight, And all bright things, Sunglasses on. * Politics as usual, Stealing stolen dreams, The moments of peace in the perpetual clearness, Blink, And you missed her, Walking away, Like enough change, Rattling, Halfway in the street, In more ways, Unavailable. * Weekends in synthesis, Putting together a life, Scratching at the pages in a book, Low breaths steaming glasses, Shining heels, Slipping, Spurs, Digging into pockets, Cutting nails, Like screws turned, Loose, Enough to get out of this place, And on the other side of things. * Her voice, Waves high, As joy, Vivid and clear, The picture, Like an abyss is ringing, Calling, The rivers of black tears, Speaking, Bubbling, Warmth, And bright, Opalescence, When the water comes, She sells lumps of sugar, Scrubbing the dead skin, Saving the wounds, Drawn in the blood of joy. * A new birth, Round sorrow, Rolling like the world keeps spinning, Record grooves, Penchant for making things, Anything, And again, Anything she touches turns to gold, And she touches herself, Like the sun setting over the fall earth, Or the teeth of those taken from their homes, In a new world. * Reminiscing over what life was like, And now all the things she remembers are so far away, She smiles, Coating your smile in gold, Remembering that at you can see the sun setting and not cry, That it will be night soon, And another day will come, And we will be the same, But different, Compliments to ourselves, When it all adds up, Because we weren’t the problem. * Answers collecting, Joys, Echo, The reverb, The scream in the middle of the night, Pushing through, Clearing the lungs, And breathing again, And again, And again, And again, And again. * Fade, Your love of the western cannon, Played, All those songs you sing, Fire in you, The passion, The words spoken, And there is no mention of the poles, Global south, God’s hands, Post patriotism. * Halo, And gold’s touch, Through tough times, Crawling, Like beetles, Or monkeys, Or stones rolling, Or otherwise. * Eyes, Jay screaming, Wolf howling, Gin in glasses, Women electric, Singing the bible like it was something else. Underground, Where Kings and Queens alike, Everybody loves, My baby, She was water, And for a long time, Opening doors, For cocky men in uniform, Uninformed, Unthinking, Unblinking, White nights, Riding through the city streets, Running through the jungle, No looking back, Amber glowing, Killers. * She wears the crest of her year, She was struck down, In a field of flowers, Living high, Wild, Knights, Horses, And chariot, Waving her hands like a flag, For your attention, Inhaling, Scared face, Falling asleep, Knives drawn, Throats slit, Knees split, To keep us in our place, Our bodies erased, Fading, West, Where we learned the destiny of neon, The head of a demon, Falling, Past ports, Stamped, Falling, Graves dug, Falling, Into the ocean, Again, And again, Crossing the sand, Burning with some kind of nature. * And time, Comes, To see our friends all devoured, Liberally, To the silence of fantasy, Like another utopia, Call it magic, Making the ugly disappear. * Queering the dissonance, Caged agendas, And you can’t take it so you walked out, Walked far enough to reinvent yourself, Bare feet and pot belly, Baggy sweater and blue jeans, Black turtle neck and glasses, Going back east, Feeling underappreciated, Underserved, Under common law, Above it all, The white man’s burden, They didn’t have a thing before we pressed the gun to their heads, Fighting club and cane, Main objective, The refrain of an agenda, Blacken the earth. * Awaken, Put some color on your cheeks, Tan, Turquoise, Beautiful nights, Round the garden wall, Into the pasture, Diamond eyes, Wild horses, Where she is unknown, Ruins spanning, The city collapse, Theory of decline, A woman of vision. * She said all she needed was to get into heaven, Looking at the art, It worked on her mind like a sledge hammer, On a blunt object, Passing through the air, Her words coded, In the silence, I looked puzzled at her face, Not knowing what to make, Framed, Glass, Board, Eyes, Brown but not the same, Passing, Stale, Mating ideas over a conversation, This is trash, Talking fast, Inviting her to take a piece of history home instead, Maybe a black Jesus or some family photos, Maybe paint a picture of heaven, Where all the white paint just blends in, Tans in the sun over time, It took her ancestors crossing the ocean, Ignoring the summons, Sermons and indigestion from the indigenous plants, Venture pacifists turned tyrants, Producing good little Indians, One little, Two little, Too little in the way of shame, Stern faced, Wide eyed, Walking across all of God’s creation, Ignoring the red as is congeals, Carving long swaths of skin from bone, Ignoring the screams, Hot iron the way of hides branded, For the grace of the requirement, Reading quiet speeches to herself at night under heavy hands, Demanded to do better, Ordered to serve, Compelled to a memory that didn’t really exist, I wish this was enough, Like shaving would make it feel better, Like the colors of my scalp were nothing but a tattoo, And you could read, In order. * The good dying, Young brothers and sisters and friends disappearing, Every day, Fading into history, Supplying the demand of another, More capitalism, Towering tall, Billboards blank white faces, Score, Bored with discussing popular trends in the media, Little black thoughts, This white wash, We were never the same, Your friends, Dragging our feet in the field, Count less the time I felt like him, Or her, Or them, When the time came to meet misery. * Practiced speech, Letters, Blown away, And all the bad things happened for a reason, Not because we were weak but because we cared and fell, Backing down the highway faster than you can catch up, Paving the way for better things, Open palm, Dagger driven, Pointed laughter and smiles all the while fading, Till it isn’t funny when you look at my face, And I have had enough of what you’re talking about, And I cut you off, Humiliated that I confused you of my intentions, Mentioning that this would save us. * We were never the same. * A stray cat, A killer with a mouth full of sharp teeth and claws, So even if you saved me it was only a matter of time, Like the present, Opening a box and expecting a gift but getting this instead. * You are the woe placed in my voice when I speak of these things, Bringing a smile that eats pain, The refrain is music, To save us from the dance. * Floor sweeping rustles, The expanse, Chasm, Our names calling. * Ringing, Stock bell, Plummeting. * The abyss, So clear, Like this void could only be, Or there is no blackness in space, Just eyes watering. * In death, Holes opening up in the skin, High powered rounds, Pumping in, The magazine full of good soldiers. * In the catalog, In a line ready to take on their mission, Holy war and the end times, God doesn’t rhyme with anything, Not even cold beer and Summer nights, Under the stars, Timothy, We will say, Holding his sling shot, Shook with the King’s English, Reciting the Lord’s prayer, Knowing the good Shepard was also a killer, Just like him, Striking the philistine down, Tumbling, Like a concussion grenade through a compound door, No matter the misinformed, Looking on, Broken eggs and omelets everywhere. * Different high but the results don’t vary. * Don’t run or they’ll think you deserved it, Die looking, Snake eyes. * South, Middle, East, Ice is on the can, Around the camp fire singing kumbaya, Unironically, Holding up my end, As faith was a good enough starting point, Wanting more time with myself but you came and wanted company, Not wanting me to leave, Boundless abyss, Fading, Clear, Headlong. * Crest, Fresh, Passed red and white and the third color, I could only wear you down, Like teeth chewing, Gravel road, The nights vision a mess of sound, Deaf ears in the panic. * In the morning, Death came and went and there was no answer to the question that saved lives and erased fear, Wilds adjacent to history, As liberty comes, Screaming eagle, Muzzle flashes like the teeth of a dog smiling, Fetching bodies above ground, Rubble, Buried in dust covered tombs beside their children, Watching the world fall into the sun, Every landscape pock marked with plague, And God’s country, Homes decaying, This oppressive climate, Colliding with fate, Colluding with desire, Graves robbed, Going underground, That feeling when you empty your stomach over the poison fed to you, Under the noise and destitute, Packed in pens like animals, Hog tied in the public square, Shot dead in the street, Or in your car just waiting, Singing a song to yourself, Silently. * Looking at the camp fire, Holding hands, And hoping that this song will bring a piece of that no place, He says it’s like home but we can’t live there unless we change, Tear our skin from our bodies over barbed wire, Bore holes in our chest, Expose ourselves, Our insides, Flayed, For amusement, A job well done, A pat on the back, Suffering fools, Grinning, Putting the man down, The earth wrenching beneath our feet. * Salt, Grown, Pillars casting shadows, Monuments lying sideways, He glances at his watch wondering where the time has gone, Giants corpse, Molding, Vision, Sunken, Cages, Broken, Free, As the bones, Preserved a posture, You couldn’t stand. * The experiment continues, Taking new life from the old dead, As was done in times before, Foreign bodies, Subtle as the ghost. * Breaks crying like the wind, The water tastes like sulfur, Repressed in the good book. * Hell can't wait for a cold one, Laying grave stones by a dumpster in mass, Ash cans. * The road trip, A bust of you made to look like someone else but full of yourself. * Video soft, Voice over, Telling the details, Hate, Delirious, And pained, Words coursing out, For you to reach the platform. * With us dwindling down to ribbons, In a race, Running fast, Fast enough to get away, And get on with our lives, Ending the cycle of violent confrontation, But not the war. * The state of America, The beautiful, Land of stolen goods, God eyes, The universe. * Story books, And black bags. * Too many to count, Before hands. * The poetry of this place is lacking, It is just us in the din and summer heat. * Drying our skin to the to the beat of hammers, Too hot to sweat, There are no rhymes. Mixed languages, The beat of every nail needing, And we start to sound the same, Like a casual psychology, Following the ant line, Lint accumulating in the trap. * Catch a breeze. * Blow away. * Another day. * In a house like a small city, Fossil records, Following a blue dog in the back yard, Bows and arrows of the first peoples. * Throwing you a party, Drilling holes in your head. * Enough said of here, Where the stars remind me of the one I love, Distant and burning bright. * Skyline, Smudged, Quixotic, Chasing windmills, Holy water, The rain dance, Crying game. * Traffic, All the cars sitting fast, U turn at the light, Trying to get around, You turn at the light trying to get around, Don't know if it's this town or another, How I saw myself killing my brother, Skipping school with a couple thousand dollars in my pocket, Just to make it home, Have a meal and a fist fight, Follow that line, All the way, U turn at every light, Just trying to get a round, Like a zero, You turn at every light, Waiting on a taxi to take you where you are not alone. * In your struggle, Spoons, Proceed, One hand, Hustle the other, Single bedroom, Lead and asbestos, Patron saint, Beveled edges, The smooth, Wrinkled skin, Empty frames. * There is a picture of you tucked away somewhere, You don't show. * Faces smiling, Saying I'm too tired to fight. * Facing an empty wall, Lamp lit. * No shadow, Like the living dead. * This is how I became a ghost, Ex. * Careful, Abdicating. * What empire, Hard lines, Patriarch cut out. * You don't show, The man in me, Will free. * The last king of spades, Hand tipping the scales. * The spirit hungers for honor. * Killing rhyme, Scheme, Blasting, Gelatin, Spine, Bending, Joint, Knees on the floor, Prey. * Prior to the funeral we spoke about the thrill, In honesty. * The heat slipping out of closed doors and clear windows, Tinted glasses, First grey hairs, Shaking violently, Spirit taken, Mature, Ripe, Last night's meal. * This is not a veiled threat, Aggressive posturing requires you to carry a gun, Requires you to raise your voice, Requires your attention, Hard on slipping, In words, Like an accent, Not much has changed since, The coons, A suicide, Cutting the rope, Walking down hill, Believing what we saw was the answer. * It is always so simple, Don't let the sound fool you, Don't let them beat you home, These people aren't your friends, Extended metaphor, Similarly, I see my enemy every day. * “You be careful,” Like walking through wet paint, Peaceful enough to know what eggshell looks like on carpet, Knowing which laws to break, Like the battle is worth fighting when it comes, Blue jeans stained and sharp shoes, Singing the blues with brown eyes. * I thought about you today while driving, Like fuck all this, There is something better, Just the same, Shit, Maybe even just as good, As the DJ spins the oldies. * At your birthday party, You are time, Less regular but basically a measure of a movement. * More distant, Thoughts, Moving, Images, And cursing words. * You spoke to me, Exclaiming, Like my name should be something different. * Die cast in shadow, Cloud, Raining on your parade day, And every day since. * Science says that Jesus doesn't look like any of the pictures you've seen. * The turtle colored cat, The boy with a bat, The one room flat, Top floor, And the mat by the door, On the right, Anchored firm, Color, Light, Fading blue, The white, Truck with red letters, The hood hot, Like the engine has been running forever. * Double parked, Handicapped. * The birds of a feather. * Flying north. * Trying to make it up to better weather. * Because the rain will come, But only when it's done, Will they begin to see the treasure. * Just like another song you might like, But never heard before. * The crowd is growing, The night is young, Not even sundown. * Guns drown out the sounds, Running through the jungle, Collecting our lives for the music of a culture. * Personality driven to steel, Arrow head, Not trapping, Killing, Biting, Eating everything, Fist bumping, Say glory, And all those words, Church, Fellowship, Singing, “What we demand is a sacrifice.” * Fee accounting measured in the steps you take, Tall, Walking orders, To the county clerk’s office, Waiting on your number to be called, Toe to be tagged, And paraded through the fairgrounds, First place, Blue ribbon tied like shoe strings, Ears burning. * The warehouse on fire, The bombs going off. * Hay fields, Pasture. * Market street. * The horse on two legs, Telling long tales about how they got here, And for only a little more money they could get away from here. * Pig iron clamping, Tin star. * Etcetera. * Deeper sadness, Gold lined, Nestled between the hard places, Straying just far enough to go missing, Wishing it was a few years later, Not wanting to go home at night, Flyers for a midnight show, Changing the week to something else, “The first time we slept in this bed was together,” Now every night the ghosts of us come to rest here. * Long nights, Lingering days, Feeling under the skin, Four eyes drawn together, Looking at the selves, Stone fruit, Broken teeth, Bloody hands, Reaching inside, Marking our territory, Burying, Jacks, Four wheels, Hungry. * The escape, Prowling, Hot sweat, Deep breaths, Drops in all things recognizable, Black flags, The departure, Water eater, Swallowing our children. * There is no pain, They leave as easily as they came, Realized, Like butterflies, Briefly drying wings after the storm, Remembering this isn't where they live anymore, That home is still far away, That this is only temporary. * Assertive words whipped topping, Cake is the only thing that is going to save us, Desert forks, Creamed those pie faced bullies. * Ground glass in the sugar cane. * Undisputed, But no comparison, Find they look the same, Like decaf but with a kick. * You would believe that the oil men lived here, That their families had been in Africa since the 20's, In the jungle wearing white suits, Black and white photos, Venetian plaster, Paris in the 40's, San Francisco in the 60's, New York in the 80's, Here, And now. * What tastes the sweetest? What sauce goes best with blood? Brown veins. * I am not painting a picture, I am writing the feeling of my head on a platter. * Case pointing. * “I haven't lost anything but sleep,” Laying here waiting on a phone call from a doctor saying you want to see me again. * Blind faith, I'm a changed man, Translation, I'm not as sad as I used to be, Would have hurt myself by now. * Running the streets back to the hotel, Well, Cable cars, On the river front, Wailing, Breath, Breathing and not saying much again, Feeling the soft parts on the underside of my arm, Wanting to wrap them over your shoulder, Make you feel like yourself next to me, Reflecting the spirit I see always seeping out of your eyes in smiles, In tears, In yawns hunched over waiting on tea, That you and me might laugh again, Sing those songs about being looked up to. * And this is all a true story, So when they say it is too good to be true, You'll know, This old white woman was double cupping carrying three cigarettes, Blue dress, Like the one the devil always comes in. * Hands shaking, Sparks a light as we stand upstairs, Where smoke rises.* Holding the head of a hippo, Lifelike, Replacing. * The family heirlooms from another time, When after you would kill an elephant you would cut off its feet and use them for trashcans, Out of reverence, A sign of wealth, Walls now bare white with three quarter inch ply wood backing, High ceilings, Brown accents. * She asked me if I knew anyone that would steal stuff, On purpose, For the insurance money, Since the pool house was starting to run over budget, And since real ivory is illegal now, So is the rhino horn. * She had been to Manilla on business, She knew who her man was. * She was just wondering, What weed smelled like, Since she never smoked. * Just cigarettes, Choking on the smell, Rising. * Who would a good sacrifice be, Because after the hours, When the cameras were still rolling, It can't look like a setup. * After the crooked cop comes to clean things up, Double crossing, Cause those things don't come cheap. * Every high hat comes with the chaos of a cash register cha chinging, Of a station whistle blowing, Of a train car leaving, Of an auction hammer slamming, The door closing. * Every snare drum knocking, Ringing over and over, Short cuts, The thud, Beat, Heart, Strings along the rhythm. *We are going to take you somewhere, Violently and against your will, Throw water in your face, Make you sit in this chair, And tell you about what is going on. * No bass, If you listen, Fine, If you speak, Fine, If you as much as sweat, Fine. * Your ass is bleeding at the back of the bus, Stamping feet, Raising hands, Making that face again. * Keeping time on the ferry to Gibraltar, Similarly, In the light of, Or in the belly, Manmade object, Swallow thumb tacks, Sickly made, Himself, Worse, Wondering about a future. * Invented, Inventory. * To hold weight for a father, Useful was this catalog. * Hanging object, Like a chandelier, In the light of, Manmade, Objects, Worse than the last in some, Respect. * New model, Till weary. * The face stops working, Skin, Leather, Interior, Seasoned, A knife in the chest, Object, Till, Manmade, Love, The object, Light, Still heavy, Bolder than fear or sadness, Humming, Blue. * A lady sings to herself in the back room of the building, Knowing this song is for you, Unfinished, As, Object. * Most nights I wish I had more to say to you, But I’ll try. * The brown eyes of a giant trapped, Escaping vision, Volatile as nature worked, Knotting the muscles into function, Anxious, Trunk, Hearth, Haunting, Heart, He lies in bed at night, Hoping to travel somewhere forgotten, To taste what is again. * Bigger than you, She is, Bigger than you, You in mass, Striding, Too tall, Splintering, For rest. * Black pupils, The pair, Eyes. * Brother, do you wonder? The marks on your arms, Digging, Claws, In the sacred, That scar, A tree carved, In the initials of a city. * Goodnight blossoms, In the eyes, Little one, Too, Big, For dreams, In visible, Pallet. * Goodnight, Traveler, Trace, These steps back, Home. * Early morning storms across the plains, Shaking the windows of a small house, Prairie land, The lightning reflecting on windows, This is a cycle, And now a break would seem trivial, Like the speed of sound, You are watching an act of God. * Afterwards in the highlands, Once it breaks, The clouds breaking like waves on the ocean, The birds return to chirp, Making it known that something has happened, If the scars aren't enough proof. * I will tell you, And afterwards, You are changed. * Breaking fast after days end, Picking up pieces of madness personified, In sound and fury. * Wrestling, The ground into tracks, The machine vibrated. * Under cover of print, Like lights flashing, Wormed it's way into ears, With its music, Like wishes of a mad man, First contact, The alien thing, A mouth full of numbers, For every time you were mistaken, Not right, The difficulty, Rises, Plates etched, Electric, Disc, Spinning, Boundless, Vibrations, Across, State, Lines. * About discipline and candy, Sugar. * How attention, Can't let go of you. * Do not hold anything close. * Say hell, Do it. * Struck with a kind of relentless, Gravity, The world waits every day for this kind of energy, The rush, What a rush, Plugged in, Tune out, Turn out the lights and sleep, Wake up and be reborn, Forgetting structure didn't build this, People did, And still do, Hands together now. * Timothy Stewart never saw Africa, He was the youngest of three children and arguably the favorite, Falling ill, I remember, After that brain tumor that took his first love, The feeling of trying to get it back by any means, Chasing windmills, He was more handsome than any musketeer, Smoother than any criminal, Cringing to think of him shooting dope, Chasing a love long gone, Battling himself at night, The mind never sleeping, The body thinning, The hair going grey, The whites of his eyes red, Reflecting the blood coursing in his veins, Head nodding to a distant song, Singing, What's going on, In that back room, New ports of call, Crossing the river into memory, Never losing his heart, Still aching, And though we lost him after so many years, He never lost us, We are by his side, Holding onto him. * In love, That smile will never fade, Following the smoke back to, Friends, Not enemies, Consuming raised flags, No blood, Washing our hands in the sun, And you had become distant, The way you speak of your emotions selling soap. * Wise, Knocking, The round hours of a passing day, She is far away now, Passing night into day, Wide eyes, Stomach full, Following the little light left, My breath rising and falling, Stalling, Uphill. * The thrill of it all, Like the fall, Your belly dropping, The bottomless pit. * Pith, Inside of you, In your veins. * Through your eyes, Wise, Fingers moving into your pockets. * The thief, Nights repeating in vision, Running into each other. * To hear it, Like I wanted to say the same thing twice, To the untrained ear. * The dog listens, Like it was an insult, And instead of getting mad it became determined to eat the world, Wagging its tail. * Folk lured, Through the abyss, Black shores, Crossing at night, Through the back doors, All glass and wood. * White lines, Cutting, Chords, Minor scale, And major scale, If petty theft only amounted to a couple billion dollars, Broken bars and necks just the same. * Snapped. * Please. * No. * Thank you. * Thank you for this intelligence, No, Thank you for this land, No, Thank you for this blood, Coating our plates, And filling our stomachs, A feast for crows, A murder for all memories. * Crossing of a street, The neighborhoods silent, Lawns lined in oak trees, The cedar chest of antiquity, Brass door knobs and sconces, Better homes and gardens, Digesting the life. * One day at a time, My lines etched into the walls, Marking I was here behind the frame and glass, Time will pass and you will leave this place, Money in hand, Still the same but different, As was yesterday, And the day before that, And the day before that, And you will pour the wine and wonder what the night looks like beyond the trees, On the other side of that darkness approaching, As the sun burns ever hotter, All things closer to the boiling point, The sense that I deserve something for my time but you can’t picture it until I show you. * This is a gift, Like the wind in your hair, Face smiling, Blowing hard, Top down, Heads turning, Heads turning, Heads turning, Click. * Into place, The planet erasing to ash in a burning sun, As all things are undone in the air of a morning pure and brilliant, Coming to pass. * “I put a spell on you, Because you’re mine.”***