Cities
Glimmer, glower, sit and stalk, dark angels fall to see you swim through this city like you mean it. Walls and doors, windows to the fuckin’ soul. The security guards are the unwitting keepers of our feet on the ground. They sit on the surface of transcendence. Man, they clip your wings and drink from Thermos flasks. I’ll talk to you about flying over terrain marked by all these political borders. Maybe we should whisper, or maybe we should shout. If the world knew that their framework is a net. If the world had a conscience for every dolphin trapped with the tuna.