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?