clone-like, I am a changing form
unborn and churning like storm clouds
burn angel wings with starry sight.
I watch movies move around me and
open their insides like eyes
taking apart by detail by part
by piece, by orange slap and
converters and carburetors, the nuclear reactor is my soul
which burns and burns and blows life around it
in shifts and settles, a calvary for the simple minded parts of myself
a miner for the hidden parts, shadow rising
I come across the secrets I keep from myself
and bring strobe lights into their eyes
and open the floodgates of my smallness
grow into my greatness in size
a giant over the insects of my weaknesses.
A broken flow.
I upend all that was me, and rewrite
like twenty star songs (these are mine)
and pull, without trump cards or changes
an inner-sky twice the size
of anything mine before.

2004-10-22 | 11:07 a.m.
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