Lexicon

The world's a game show,
Noise and brightest colors
Hyping up a room
Of 499 contestants
Losing,
Cheering like the poor
In line for the lottery.

Our love
Was a pretty melody
In minor key
With half a verse
And no chorus.

My days
Are crackling current
Through the wires
Stretching over boarded houses,
Wild forests,
Grassy highways,
Slackly arcing pole to pole,
Out of sight.

God is a tourist.

You're a lovely Polaroid 
Developed in reverse.

- 10/21/25

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