yes

thousands of tiny little explosions
from car exhausts in the morning

lazy bones sleeps in and doesn’t cause wars
lazy bones doesn’t have the power
lazy bones is young enogh to think he can change
lazy bones is a mirror with a sheet drawn over its face
lazy bones is comfortable and well fed
lazy bones is a micro dynamo of a culture

thousands of tiny mind explsions
every morning as the mourning fits the bill

sore throats and cancer and death in a little shoe box
all the mice in heaven are nibbling on the cheese of the soul
but not here! Here, people are breathing and complaining
and sporting all sorts of attitude problems

as the clouds are a carpet
that has been stuck to the roof
by some drunken god
who runs a failing carpentry company

but everyone is afraid to say

we are made of smoke

everyone afraid to jump into
one gaint hay stack
to batter down the intimacies
whatever that actual implies

quite what
is afraid to say

afraid of what it could possibly
mean?

all together
or to hermitry
GO

haha
so sentimetal
so romantic

things will always
be going

but its bold to
tease the possible

arranging colours
for a brighter now

I kinda like this poem – especially the allusion to Christian propoganda, e.g., “lazy bones.” (If it was intentional, I’m not sure though).