The tidal rain of mirrors falls without hailing
A crowd surfing eulogy is read at rip tide speed
12 gun salute followed by six minutes and five seconds of silence
Our love is now driftwood on fleeting memories
These are my waves goodbye
Food mountains carved from grey matter.
Street parties powered by lamp posts
I climbed the ladder because I ate the most
From chattering classes I learned a bit.
Our weary aire was rare.
I combed the heirs of her sojourn
Cleaned my clock to know the time
Threw stones at glass houses so my seeds can breathe the sun
I have just begun, because
Eating from tableaus is unhealthy
More than an earthen vessel filled with spirits
I am the bar
To resurrect or drown need chips on the table
I check my hand and look to the dealer