Father Time killed the cuckoo

The foundation of all that light

In passing cars

In passing bars

In passing windows

Glowing green like neon parrots

Mimic the motion of the ocean

Running down inside me

There, passing sunsets in the traffic

Free spirit tampered by the engines

The engines of too much machine

Not enough man

Too much motion

Too much noise pollution

Even flows, glows,

Through this head in silence

I belong, to the lost

And I dream her to the bed

Of the wonder years, and after

Everything opposite and upside-down

I scrawl the heart of hollow man

Into the stone of the world

With the end of a hollow man’s blood-tipped pike

What do I see?

That you do not see?

Emotionless fire

Turning my hands to ice and ash

Tight denim horseshoes

Cradling ass like text

It’s a yarrow infusion

There’s Cigarette Sally

Climbing out of her coupe

She’s blonde and all blue

Wearing a long summer dress

That looks like Hawaii

Tilt me toward Angeles

Tilt me toward a sun flare …

It’s another long line of traffic

It’s another body cut in half

This crystal ball canopy

Lives lived in clear glass

Yanking flower petals off with teeth

She boils for me

She boils for me not

I wonder where Father Time is

Still smoking Marlboros in the 60s

And killing innocent women and men

Hollow time

Hollow then

We make babies to name them

And then toss them to the wind.

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