life asks a question and to this
i am called and i go,
with a side of poison for my heart.

in an absolute existence, a philosophy,
there is a compost of gray and mud,
there is intoxication and an absoluteness
which spreads out in a line.

your imbrued materials have imbrued my mind,
and the evil we do executes the birds in their cages.
--

i have lived in strange neighborhoods.
the closest civilization is something
related to another city where i have
lived without being. the illumination,
the fluorescent light, a concrete wall of
blinking fear, the facility where clouds
are given up and float. the darkness is
a certain product which
in the world outside becomes
a discontinuance. this accidental life is
loud, is a cooling system which groans.

having lived in the land of gray and rain,
and being therefore an upside-down sort,
i go from the room where this minimum is
abandoned.