turning on every bright light

yeah, that’s you on the overpass, walking past workers, looking like you. if you had a different name you’d still feel like this. two miles from your office motorway. motor away. reinvent the wheel until it rolls over everyone. the wheel waiting until sunday and then it goes around finding people to roll over. the newspapers make it a front page story and then it rolls over newspaper buildings. you can’t understand anything the wheel says. if you show it this or that it will say that’s a bridge. music to take you from one set of words to the next.

ashes ashes we all fall down

king tut and elvis both spent time there
there are other sad boys
hiding in bathrooms
crying in mirrors
they reinforce themselves
they know their own stories
they sleep with one eye open despite being the largest predators in the domain
waiting for the other shoe to drop
children of neglect
they still run home
and genuflect on the way back out of memphis