I can’t turn off my eyes

In my old age I’ve become the night sky

Shapes and colours made light

A tongue I can’t quite get right

Bound arrows in flight

Over the border of artifice sky

Fog to form congregation

Shanghaied by suggestion

Dawn the steam powered engines

Hauling cloying baggage with their rusted old dog grit their inveterate art of darning up

Siren streets and their beckon

The winding river of soul dew drifting

Amalgamating and melting

A smile I can’t quite feel out

Shadows distorting in rain tempered ocean

A slow building dread I cant crack

I start falling under

Scrap metal tides that beat me ceaseless

Initiated in unalloyed greyness

A terminal pathway, the unsullied world of all the unwanted and left behind things

Come pale midnight

I am overexposed in your faultline eyes

But you’re dressed so nicely

I could almost believe for a while

That the barren land I haunt

Is place enough for a home

Buried in a half made bed sweet utopia

I’ll plant where I drop

Come alive, o pitiful lie

Godspeed ersatz assimilation

Scrap metal tides that beat me ceaseless

Initiated in unalloyed greyness

A terminal pathway, the unsullied world of all the unwanted and left behind

In battery pride a ticking stillness

Below a blunt sun bearing disdain down on

Its quiet children who have never known cold

Nestling bugs

Pedagogical winter looms

Dawn the steam powered engines

Hauling cloying baggage with their rusted old dog grit their inveterate art of darning up

This patchwork puppet rejecting all my compromise