beneath a blank blank sky

Mother, I said let me in!
Its cold out there
and I haven’t any clothes left!

Orphanage dreams are no better than suburbia family carnage,
but what I have is different yet still equally overwrought.

Good night father
and thank you
for stroking my third eye
when I was not looking.

You see I grew up amidst rows of pylons meant to symbolize people;
it was mostly the same except the ways that it was better.
When I bought my first rifle I aimed at the sky and shot down the stars
one by one
then the moon
then the fifteen closest planets
to get a better look.

It took all my wives to put them back
but I didn’t care since
since those are but a heart a dozen
and I needed to visit the city anyways.

I called up my oldest enemy though he was busy, so I took the journey alone
braving the cold
and the transparent coyotes.
The road widened, narrowed, curved.
For a stretch it was so deep below the sand that I got lost.

Here I am now,
settling for the night between a dune and an oasis.
I’ll be etching my life story in the palm trees before I go to sleep in the quicksand.