The Gathering, In the Night
Under the cap of ice, the river runs chilling through the veins of the earth, crystal blood and pure driven.
Windows that frost over with crackling, snapping flakes of snow, like the glass shattering as it grows.
The home becomes an igloo and all inside are Eskimos with fur halos and a way of life that has broken it’s back trying to hold off the future.
I speak nonsense like garbage to clear out my mind, flushing out the pipes and hoping that once the block is gone, a clear smart thought will strike out and change things.
Nothing changes things.
A toy store that buys broken toys and keeps them on shelves to get dusty and be alone is full of soldiers that are hunched over with limbs hanging free and useless.
There are bears that cannot see and ballerinas that cannot dance.
At night they gather round a plastic fire and tell tales of how once they were loved and embraced and how all they feel now is that cold, rushing wind, so they go their separate ways and don’t speak of it again.
Oh how I wish I could keep these keys going forever.
To drift in this moment like the darkness of space and glittering stars to blind me.
To wrap myself in a burning blanket of atmosphere as I fall from the sky and land inside a television, to live my life away in a land without tedium.Where adventure calls and I have the phone to answer.
Windows that frost over with crackling, snapping flakes of snow, like the glass shattering as it grows.
The home becomes an igloo and all inside are Eskimos with fur halos and a way of life that has broken it’s back trying to hold off the future.
I speak nonsense like garbage to clear out my mind, flushing out the pipes and hoping that once the block is gone, a clear smart thought will strike out and change things.
Nothing changes things.
A toy store that buys broken toys and keeps them on shelves to get dusty and be alone is full of soldiers that are hunched over with limbs hanging free and useless.
There are bears that cannot see and ballerinas that cannot dance.
At night they gather round a plastic fire and tell tales of how once they were loved and embraced and how all they feel now is that cold, rushing wind, so they go their separate ways and don’t speak of it again.
Oh how I wish I could keep these keys going forever.
To drift in this moment like the darkness of space and glittering stars to blind me.
To wrap myself in a burning blanket of atmosphere as I fall from the sky and land inside a television, to live my life away in a land without tedium.Where adventure calls and I have the phone to answer.
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