#584 - everything has an afterlife

 

8.viii.21

584

2.219

everything has an afterlife

 

bread tag à guitar pick

fallen sticks à fire

 

call nightsoil what dinner was

old socks are now an asteroid

 

cats into rags

a call to all ants the parts of the mouse

unpick jumper, make a lamb

 

some spent hubcaps can be wok

the button is button again

 

every part of the animal’s eaten

worms bear off the rest

 

this sun, set, lights now an other side

ache will be reminder

dead pen for an inscription you rub

 

a cloud may seem to vaporize

but rain comes out of our taps

 

violin for rat trap

spent light makes up a dream

 

the book becomes a fire

and all the world will catch

 

flight recorded for another crack

 

wove time for a tiara

a clock is now somebody’s crown

 

the argument has been rehearsed

a feather in the cap

 

these old bones, even they point a way

 

the Silver Sleeves play

‘ropes of phlegm to the heavens’

 

dust of the old

will make new stars

 

consider an idea

…there you are again

 

forest rises just from seeds

what’s not mulch?

 

will plastic ever be oil again?

a question becomes a demand

 

out of these ages another

and from despair, fresh hope

 

from woods a walk

and fresh expression

out of the mouths of babes

 

at a minute past me

smoke and ash

shed becomes a pyramid midden

old tropes and strophes strewn for a tribe

 

my old heart goes again