(The Transporter)

Wrestle // Waste

The smell, the pavement; The rain, the people. Worlds biggest stage. You come to get lost and end up watched. You float above or grind through the middle. Underwater.
the submarine.
Suspended and hanging with no one or everyone but your thoughts. still and languid seaweed forest.
Hip forward balance and god on the loudspeaker. Destination determined. Just rush.
Swarm.
Pollinate.
Swim upstream.

My days are not long enough to gather my thoughts. Day makes it's impression as night erases Her from me and again I am left to gather my thoughts. Librarian of the muses I clip and catalog.

Stay with me as I wrestle with my day. Sing to me when the sleep has forgotten my face. Be ever present. Ever near. Form like fog around me and blind the atrocities. Leave those to wander confused in my midst whilst our path be clear.

And lo, though I may waste away I melt into the atmosphere slide particle to particle so that you may breathe it in and be new again. Free of me and complexity. Though the vines will wither in the weight of the berry the birds will sing heavy songs of duplicity: tragedy and empathy.


Run from these words! (These ghosts.) Harken not to their haste and vile influences.