Birds

tired
small like the bird-mouths
gaping
for sustenance
life

over the underpass dropped into air
i am gravity flying
perception is
every(no)thing
oxygen's toxic and words are just
dollar signs

the sound of the door closing
felt like a gunshot
the aftermath, blood draining
call in the armed forces
zombies have taken
your souls
(inasmuch as a
soul can exist;
i am given to fits
of fantasy, see
next I'll claim faith
and democracy rule)
black is too
melodramatic for this
grey is the morrissey shade
we could paint this whole thing in a
palette of metaphor
spit the sky green
bright red hands on the floor

where your skin was is
nothing at all.