Trajectory
The dance of Will between you and The
Notion of planets, the poetry of gravity
Endless erosion of Time and peace
Still our skeletons must move and breathe
The leaves of autumn are proclivity
Gods and Demons, Roman hierarchy
Professors in dust jackets screaming from eaves
To the tick of my heart turning the ***** key

Wait for the stars to collide
So our minds set aside
Grasp and its innumerable calculations
The cellular breath of her new sensations

Hypocrisy is the bend of civilization
The dogma of the surviving
A blood-soaked officer’s badge
Gravity of a supernova undying

My bones the unimpeachable thoughts
of God paused on humor and dialect.  
Rob the sunlight of breath, rest.  
My heart in my throat as the gulls crest.  
The ocean hunches its shoulders
like a universe possessed.

The sun peels poetry from the writer
His breathing is a form of symphony
The rhythm unlocks clouds onto wind
Ash tree seeds are called the “keys”

The universe sounds like Bones thrown off their tracks
The makeshift riffs of some ancient ruse
The yellows and reds aren’t even real
All molecules running insane; laughter bruised

My grandmother was a mad scientist
The chemistry of her; how the acid turned
My sister was caught and now my brother, too
Her ghost grips my wrists with a friendly burn

The indignant mantle of an idiot
Shorn, wooden shoulders rotted to bone
Dusted for flavor; dentil houndstooth coat
A book on plural morality and a scone

No rhyme, no meter; no whim and seether
Wingclipped hair and a fingered smile
Through the prism of Penchant spun on axis
In the dictionary he locates G for guile

It feels as if next year’s Christmas
has passed us by
Autumn is a sweater
Sewn from Lullaby
Remember to breathe No matter who leaves
We’re all trying so you must try