This is the window where. I watched the future start. My pupils dilated. The shock sped up my arms. I shut my ambushed eyes. And turned my face towards the heat.
It's a brush fire spreading, feeding as it moves. It's a disappeared glacier; it's the airborne flu. It's your disbelieving eyes logging concrete miles.
Dad I know. You can't see. My actions as. A plea for peace. . You can't get past. The rocks stained red. The nailbomb blast. The doctor, dead. . Your prairie dream.
My friends are working on avoiding me. So when we meet I keep my mouth real busy. Talk out my nervous energy. It never works, I throw darts at the wall and get sloppy.