Dreams
All around us
they are hunting God
but we sleep so deeply
we discover the prints
in the morning
& it’s as if time
has become a crowd
gathering to watch us fail,
but in the forest
it’s enough to dream
of the possibilities
the way a child
dreams of fairies—
yet who are we to dream,
we are a group
of impatient falconers
Blackbirds
Pause for a second
before the rain shapes
a past that beckons
to dissipate
amongst the blackbirds
of our fate
& listen to the secret
of our children
amongst the thorns
carving a reminder
of the light
that tears our bodies
into the shards
from which we were born
from nightmares
that also beckon
the doctor & the nurse
to give up & bring us
the hearse
Homage
Take a moment
to receive injury from this place
because of what’s next—
we call it escape violence,
how we’re caged by fear
& cannot meditate
on a horse or a sunset
or a guy on the bus
who inspires us
because he looks
like another guy who reminds us
of a guy who is part bird,
part lizard, part man,
so we ask our friend
to stand on the temple steps
& shoot us in the arm
in homage
