The war is between
eyes the cries of those soaring. I was blasted off of life, at high speed,
orange juice and gin; feeling indestructible, invincible, a raw ass lie to
self; a man on scales, so young and mother demanded a father figure; caught in
dreams, negotiating miracles, can’t conjure up my life! I was destroyed,
fretting instability, took years to regain partial self—a warrant for myself,
an outlaw in self, gutted and unleashed—they all knew, no one cared, to bounce
back, like abracadabra! Framed in disbelief, looking at her, and knowing—it will
never happen aside for war; captured by lakes, suffering belief, like damn! all
I experience to never be told. It made front page, a poem he wrote, and many
saw it was barely reaching. A new concept, a new mathematical, a new science—and
Love knew, the pain was lethal, and she kept pursuing. The final tour, inside
the drinking, outside the deliverance—and no one cares!
