I sit down to change the world but then I get to thinking.

I remember when

the streets were slick on Wilmington
and the lights cast long blue shadows
like the milk of spiders,
luminescent webs,
spare a dollar,
spare a dime.
The sidewalks beating and
breaking -
our feet one door down in a two shot town and
our pockets aching with currency.
Dogs doomed to howl toward
an indifferent moon.
We, injecting ourselves into tin tubes
spun toward the promised land,
heavy metals and poison oak,
snow laden sunrise
in
3...
2..

But all there is now
is rain and a rash
and scars from all the slices.

Its hard to walk when the feet are gone,
Its hard to talk when the tongue is swallowed,
Its hard to sleep when the mind is clear
and it all plays in projection
across the black backside of eyelids.

This is all because
of
you.