games

Tomorrow
I am pushing and pulling
the bill of my cap
tossing it spinning ‘to the air
and I will feel the tickle of spiderwebs
on my forehead
giving high praise
to wind-born beings
half-flesh, half-heaven
to their whinnying brethren I long
to belong
Today I skip
across the chalk-line squares
they tell me I play at games
and I say,
what is life without games?

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let there be light

I am contending
that underneath every single
lamp
post
yes that ugly thing of iron and spray paint
there lies a thousand
and one
angels all covered in dirt
maybe even some shit
and worms in their hair
 
and some say
they illuminate the goddamn world.

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