head in the

clouds gasp fresh lightning
one last breath before the breach
roil finding a grave
others brave a march

frightened children fire off rounds
into tired crowds
piranhas or gnats, they're gone
to the blackened body count in the sky
mumbling into ink
sweat-stains strangle my letters
and we lose faith in the post
my days are falling into
dangerous repitition
cynic's stagnation flies
overhead the life where
nothing is worth complaining over

the lightning boy sleeps, for sure
but I can see him clearly now
tumultuous dream

2020

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