Grey Matter

There is a stem
From which we all follow
In broken booths and vacant dispositions
Like a parking lot or a thought meter
Disrupting a hollow downtown development index
Where you were patient

And I attested to the wings of change
Dispelling like od bent possession
With willows that danced in the driveway
And distilled our salty sailing promises
Immured and forever glossy like sand that
Sparks from the vacant parking meter

Work to hold our possessions
It was, after all, the apple from Eden
That gave us the power of possession
That was the trick that danced
In the empty moonlight

Where we kissed and disposed
Of our entire entry
Like the stem of our thoughts
Where we all shared the mutual crowning
Of our deliverance, we shine

Like the stolen dreams from vacancy
And withered enamored witnesses
Not witnesses
Instead salty soldiers
Where we can perform
The grey matter that unfolds between us