like petals & dust

we are of the wind & of the earth,

from roots, from rocks,

we come together & fall apart,

or fall together & come apart,

from the memory of some ancient tree,

like sweet children with mad hearts,

cast aways, run aways, all ways,

swiveling, orbiting, in a moment,

and spinning off our axis in the next,

thirsting at every altar,

drinking at every pedestal,

stumbling away, always,

until we settle some way.

& the morning after,

the state employs some women,

to come with their brooms,

& sweep us away, all ways,

& off we go, & on & on,

a dizzy hurricane of movement,

a relentless onslaught of lightness,

a riot of attention, deficit or otherwise,

& off we go, & on & on,

drifters, listening to modest mouse,

reading beat poetry, unbeatable,

still so fucking sweepable,

waiting for some mythical flood,

the fabled final form of god is surrender,

rendered asunder, over & under,

& off we go, & on & on.

even the floods came and went,

& god’s wrath is just climate change,

noah built a bunker for the rich,

& we met at octopolis,

they couldn't open their doors,

said something about pressure,

our fins glistened in the ravaging sun,

like a memory of something.

like petals & dust,

we filed for insolvency,

dissolvency, like hitler’s final solution,

a petty cocktail called love,

called family, called race, called caste,

or the things men tell themselves,

when they can't sleep,

when they're spinning, but beg to fall,

placeless violences, spacing out,

holding stubborn gravities called gut health,

microbiomes of utis, dancing acid trip,

ordinary joes, burning their face,

just die if you can't survive,

we’ll have better statistics then,

of the system’s normalised drive to murder,

money doesn't talk, it whispers dirty secrets,

with will, intention, making us human,

mathematical creatures of light & philosophy,

came from somewhere, going nowhere,

& off we go, & on & on.

like petals & dust,

we storm the capital,

like mollases,

we colonise time both human & nature,

organic, dead, & some things unfeeling,

the poetry of cold logic stings,

who do i call when i want to kill myself?

don't get any bright ideas-

like petals & dust,

we come to fall, together, apart,

we leave distracted, missing something,

something formless, nameless,

like before the wind,

before we found each other,

& everything changed.

honest poetry makes terrible music,

i can't hold the tension, i can't let it go,

it's purgatory in the morning,

sisyphus in the afternoon,

& somebody's arms at night,

fuck desire being evil, is it even real?

how do it change but slowly?

how do i breathe but heavily?

where do i rest?

if i'm lost, then where?

where do i look when i look away?

all ways? always, distracted, trying,

always, burning, kissing, tired, awake,

how do we do this? am i hurting you?

please leave me sooner than later,

please linger on your way out,

i will always love you & all that,

& off we go, & on & on.

like petals & dust,

held by love alone,

home for the houseless,

house for the homeless,

do i write everything for my mother?

will i ever fall in love again?

or will we all just keep falling, & on & on,

phoenix & ash & petals & dust,

& off we go, & on & on,

row row row your boat,

& on & on.