A Conversation

from by Native Dream

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In another life, we call each other by name
I, a series of electrical reactions and the distribution of chemicals and and it's all different
I am dirt and wind, moving through sunbeam
I am a plane, my own pilot and my worm children
All you'll have of me are my waves
Along with files on papers left in my pocket
When my skin is paper thin and it's been too long for me to notice
To work
I'll have him sort them for me
You'll know who I am
I was everything
I am a God

The numbers grow violent when a man's palms aren't large enough to settle his hunger.
Drowning faces drowning faces, drowning faces.
Their necks pressing back threw the spaces between my bones.
I Sift worlds with phalanges.
Without weight, I wait on the hands on my wrist to lay hands on your family, like a six ton kiss.
Im behind its tick.
Missing millions one should have picked.
I see you breed.
I see you sworm.
Procreating in masses
With the seeming ease of brushing crumb from table
I put you in caskets


from Control, released March 17, 2017



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