of breaking and things

i.

"-are you?"
the violent wreath of smoke bears your voice off
we will not listen, even hear your name
the soft, swollen echoes of memory haunting your every action
we do not aim for satisfaction but if it happens
well, so be it. we will not change. we will
watch the cancer billow out of your mouth and
not change, we will answer your laughter
with polemics and not change, we will
validate your every insecurity
but we will never change.

we, the mind and body.
arguing into the chasms of arizona
ricocheting through the desert, freezing in the night
holding our morals up with every sinew, every flexion
sweating our charisma and our grace, watching it
drench the hungry and cracked earth
leaving us, the mind and the body.

the underwhelmed,
the mind and the body.

ii.

forgive our debts!
pay our rents!
let us through your ivy-covered gates,
arm us for the war, give us guns for our waists
extra! extra! extraneous but beautiful--
jumbled brambles, mirthful--
sorrowfully obsessing--
great billowing gulls--
deluded love--
liberators and libations--
wise, wisecracking, wrecking--
jetting truth overtly--

the soldiers are marching
the soldiers are marching
bombs! nuclear bombs!
bombs of all sizes, colors and shapes, and acid rain
to wash the sins away.

there are no fights
if there are no people.

iii.

we left ourselves in two shooting stars
you and i and the great weight of the generation
back on earth, we looked for constellations
failing those, approximations
apellations
names for all of the things we couldn't explain

iv.

"you're not listening to me-"
no, i'm not.
outside, the cicadas reduce my mind to fog
the crickets march
the sun fades into a peculiar orange yellow pink
i watch the mosquitos bounce against the screen
waiting for things to end
waiting for things to begin
waiting
waiting
waiting