smith intersects johnston atop beacon hill
thirsty with an eyepatch and a $10 bill

diagrammed a solar system
on a tavern napkin
the axis is slipping
bodies in limbo
hearts and limbs akimbo

Sisyphus on a speedtrain
his futility reprieved,
meditations a blur
summer showers
an outdoor ampitheatre

stuck in a honeycomb
your time worn teddybear
and a melting ice cream cone

dimly backlit in dusk
deny this night landing
in a tailored prolonged fuck

emptied fuel
fires extinguished on the sands
thumbing someone’s initials
etched on a zippo
and skipping it into the sea

far above the cities below
apartment lights flickering
SOSes under a sheet
of air conditioned drone

the economy of language
a migration sans return
our slogans are the first to go
the poets soon to follow