Savage


Ravish the silver sky and teach my heart
higher law.

If my promises aren't enough,
then perhaps a revelation of sorts can do the trick.

Keep your eyes closed through the next session,
my savage bird of twilight.

I reached for ragged ghosts from the harbor-lit
arena of storm surges; flipping floundered wishes
in sollemn dirges all my life. The effervescence of illness bubbly ballast,
emm......crumble crank.

When I finally died it was as if the
Earth split open and revealed
it's utter disdain for hatred,
her love of saltwater an blue stars...
Wait...hold up...What the hell is "crumble crank?"

However hard I tried I could not make my life
substantial, or even tangible. Ridiculous twilights and
shattered mornings of apricot dawn
blended with
sad loss and realization of just how far from home we really
are.
After the crankshaft of the craft crumbled we could not return home to Earth the same.
I have wanted to find sunlit paths...
it isnt from lack of wanting that I died.
Whaaaaaaat?


It was just too obvious in trhe end, they said.
Too obscenely blatant was the moonmadness
one less misfit abductee with no hero
walks the weeeping, challenged
Earth.

Flashback from Neptune: She was so beautiful face to face that
it hurt the clouds in my eyes and made me awkwardly try and fill silver spoonfuls
of tingling rain whilst balancing on my good leg, and I crazily began to
summon forth amber spirits, watched 'em dancin' all through my
lazy, wicked bones.

The revelation is almost complete.
I hope you enjoyed our short flight.
Please remain, as always,

my lost dream of sunlit garden paths under Autumnal Equinoxes,
my last wish under Northern Lights,
my eternal hope of vibrant bird-song in June.


C.E. Kane