They hold the world dripping under their tongues

Little colonies of thought

Forming gold crosses out of raindrops on the car window.

Dancing on the edge of what they thought was Murkwood,

(what,

With the eyes of the dead gleaming in the trees

Who could blame them?)

And every second the darkness

Getting a little cozier 'round their minds

They were standing in the street like they didn't exist.

(and maybe they didn't

because they couldn't keep their minds from spinning and pumping

like Phillip Glass organs

long enough to really give it any thought.)

Standing in the street like martyrs.

Minds nailed up to their bodies.

Oh you fools,

Now I must cross oceans to save you.

Bid farewell to this silent sea.

Flash your parting smile to tranquility.

Back

To living life in a snow globe.

Endless white

Courtesy of the black man

Who gives you a shake every morning

And snows you in

Till you're so fucking cold

Nothing exists

Except cracks

In you.

And him all smiles and hands on your back

Saying "No,

We wouldn't ever let you stop getting sick."

All friendly gestures

Lifting the spoon to your lips

Saying "No,

We'd never let you feed yourself your own poison."

And you then,

"I don't want to play this game anymore.

I want to go back to the real world

Where there is nothing but sky upon sky

And the gospel that is grass against my skin.

I brought you here,

Though you didn't know it.

(though I didn't know

You could actually hear me

as I strummed a chord over and again

and sang the only words that could be sung,

" no matter where you are

you are breathing as I am breathing

and this does not change

whether you are staying or leaving.")"

But they are cracking their skulls on the 10 o'clock south

And even the crackheads edge away

From the translucent kids

With the clipped wings

And eyes like black holes.

FIU Campus

September 10, 2008