off, beat

slipping into all the styles of the vagrants in the backstreetscan of fire haunts me, learning all these equilibriums without heat

the poverty of fear animates me like a boy so beaten by his parents that he screams“don’t hate me”tangled up in all the trappings of a christmas dinner now rotting in the deep freeze

i’d rather face the threat of death than live a life suspended in the spring breezesuburban ticky-tack coffins in a row all asking "how much plastic does a man need?”get me out of here, i never wanted to be living in a day dreami’d rather cower in a night mareat least these evening terrors keep me warm like my can of fire and its blank stare

staring down into my soul inaninimation stirs my heart I am another piece ofgod

always moving never moved I am a piece of

god?

fear is not impoverished because it does not have a powerdid your castle help protect from the trampled flower?a labor'r said the poor the weak the lamethey are the salt that keeps the earth from going souri’ll forward out my can of fire like a corporate memo:

my life did not begin until i heard the bell toll, the eleventh hour.