There was a collapsed star.
There was light at the very end of a cave.
There was lightning that struck a tree.
There was a baby born
With a slightly bigger skull, one day.
Her mother didn’t know what she’d birthed.
She couldn’t see the skyscrapers
Or endless hours in the fields.
Out on the twilight Savanna
Still crying
The little mutant clutched her mother
In the early hours of the Pliocene
I am someone who is waiting on a dock in the middle of the night. There is a gross, green electric light shining on me. There is something out in the waves.
Old shadows break in the brand new walls
The dirt projected by the naked winter giants of trees
Stains bare wooden flesh with familiar rusty bandages
Kid sitting at the edge of a dock.
Legs swinging in free fall.
Wood scrapes into his hands.
He thinks that the stars can talk to him.
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sheeeeesh
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