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Week 33, 2017


My plane... its late again!
I'm up late - hot night - want some adjacent rain!
Run out and taste the flame!
Sun goes down in a blaze of shame
It killed the land - but people they chase the end!
They savor the taste of pain!
The taste of something in a world where our days are spent on
A waste of sense!
Burn it down, until our displacement ends we
Want more, more, till its all ash...
Like Asimov's Multivac.
Me I've been free now I'm trapped
Climbed the tree but... I fall back.
The world's... chopping at it with a tall axe!
Trapped. Not like a ski but a mask.
Been North for five weeks about.
Southbound two till I ease them out,
Now it's back to the wild and the whittle!
Work hard: so that I can live a little.
Its been four, its been eight, its been more!
Now I'm down to 7, but I found my heaven
And good things aren't 7/11 they're a thirty two,
Like last week. Ill be first to prove
Under blood red hood skies. Good night, not even with thirst I'll move
Good night.

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