https://www.instagram.com/calebgarling/

Don’t tell me about kings

There’s nowhere to set my eyes

in a dimlit cavern full of noise.

The keep will endure a brief landing,

the duration of a good pour.

Knots across the ribs, deep

so rotted with resistance.

Break a beam of blue and white

so hawks stop passing unaware.

/

I can’t hide behind the guitars

I recognize and tap my foot.

Did you say something familiar?

I’m sorry. I smiled uninvited.

Has my time nearby polluted

any chance for starting fresh?

/

Would their talons lift me

if I stretched across the table?

Drop me in nests and feed

the frayed edges of the rope.