BOOK 2 poems
//13
& some other shi
Ever,
J.M.L
t
HOME
A rolling, rumble along Toward Home. I stare, for fourty minutes now, At the twilight sky. An ever-cooling flame Licking upward from the horizon, Flecked with the silhouettes of trees, The black paper cut-outs of factories. Between the moon above and the sun Below the sky’s dome is punctured By two planes, As fingernails through paper, Ripping at the fabric of space. They run parallel to the car, Fiftry miles now. We are all heading North together, We are all heading home To what beds may come.
I swear down Someone just stonewashed my brain. I’ll be going home broken again And curling up somewhere with thoughts Spilling from my ears, Dripping fears onto my chest, To soak I thought I heard my spine croak, My knees creak. An old man stole my knees. Replaced my nose with a beak. And which thought To think through first? Immersed in these people, So caring, No time to realise what the fuck I am doing Flailing, noodle-like Stagger, skip & bike into night.
To no home at the end of the day. Never alone. Feeling more grown, And the pains of growing.
NOHOME But Never Knowing.
NEVER SURRENDER