Spirits

I gave up the spirits
who tell me things

“this world has no common sense”

you say you might be given wings
we cannot avoid
this recompense

choke down my pride
follow the trend

“upheaval squirms in all the cracks “

which way do the streetlights tend
watch the red
flow into black

these feet have left the ground before
I’ll remain in the old oak grove forevermore.