global tag

stand by me plays on the airways around me — and i won’t cry

but might a patron be permitted one “why?”.

why do the paint-birds and ink-dogs clatter sideways,

urinating the thirst grounds like the walls were their highways.

With electric blue airbrush alive in their catheters

they rave fifty-armed like earth’s elegant saboteurs

even the cities, so marred to their proud hilts

graffiti face-jobbed like four clowns stacked on loud stilts

have not hushed the lust to touch up and refashion

so now they have signatured the quiets with their passion.

behold earth now shot up like a jelly-fished laser

so what might it cost for one giant eraser?