We’re all Prisoners of the crescent sun
Borrowed words and a continent undone
By the temperamental moon we hide
With our eyes closed we searched for
The cars we parked in cold light day.
Maybe they will take you more serious
if towed back to the city with asphalt stars.
if I were to make a statue of you
i would cast you in leaf with the worlds
returned gold spared its blushes
to make a bull trade card board
We lost the keys watching the weather
feathers await amongst boxed dreams
stretching from watermill to hills
Daubed in green clouds.