The weight of a dragon scale
Futures crackle like silver foil
blackened by their underbelly,
lines traded for faeces and friends
at an old jukebox altar,
fed from borrowed coins.
The dimmed back room buzz,
tethers me to ripped sponge seats.
My lighter will bring out this death
until I can move inside the smoke,
beyond the clink of pool cues.
Walk inside a sticky carpet world
and bend the medicated traits
of men, a spirit high above
the trees. I shake the daily need
of creatures on their knees.