MAYBE THEY DON'T SOUND LIKE GULLS AT ALL
fledgling falcons sound just like seagulls again today
and when I hear it I shut my eyes
and feel the sun
and hear the wind
and it's enough
to remind my skinless beast
of vast edges.
nostalgia is a melancholic great
waste of emotion.
time is an onion being sliced
slowly and forever.
I fear artificial lighting and vascular hangovers
and being too proud to just turn alien on drugs and really
embrace my islandness.
I can shut my eyes in the rain and think
of absolutely nothing.
not even absence
but rain isn't practical.
rain builds and reduces
entire countries then rains.
I've never seen some of my favourite
people in the rain
but hundreds of thousands of strangers
all hunched and covered like fruits
full of cares and rushing straight thru
each other and I wanna say
but that's not what they care about.
I probably have no bad memories or
stand out experiences with seagulls
on the sky. but if I close my eyes to inhale
nicotine or smoke or cider
or vegans (but a good vegan experience can erase
previous negative ones) or plain starchy washing I'll turn
inside out and ppl will be crushed
under the long grey blocks of flats
that I'm containing even tho
I still hope they're just sad trees
growing tall and maybe unsaddening
at the canopy just under my sun
that has to be there. how else
would even buildings grow.