i am

I am

That dazzling void

That trumpeting call

That passionate need

Of weeded, thimble colors bright

Coursing through alcohol and blurred sight

I am

Everything you can’t fight, or don’t want to.

I am

That pristine dream

That boyhood fort

That summer secret

Of too-young transport lost

Meddling with branchless exhaust

I am

The old ache at last wearing through.

I am

That magnificent noise

That anachronous pull

That proliferous bent

That beats like forty wings

Alighting on destiny’s spring

I am

The old coming gin sling, that had to end.