Crumpled up pages came of age
On that journey that includes stars
Becoming lakes . Can you feel the ache
In the abdomen of their wet fuse
That can’t be lit? The blaze of glory has drowned.
Cities that loomed large have become
Small towns compared to the Atlantis
I’m no longer ashamed of.
It’s been threaded together like the bridges
From LSD cars to Mars. There are forests in outer space,
Car chases that have stained the last page
Of my wine glass. Looks like the blood of apes
Can travel far, at least from Spirits to bottles
Behind a neighborhood bar. Don’t let space heads fool you,
Spirit is Form, first a window, then the alcohol
That cleans it. It can run on the vapors
Of the steam engine that is your most teeth-
Clenched rage, ageing the machinery of your conspiracies.
