how long must I wait
how long must I wait
till the mountains of avarice turn blue
how long must I wait
how long must I wait
till the moleskin I pick [bad word] fuse
avulsion limps its spurs in the pinches of my earth
the dust I kick of animus shatters
recorded on my reels of tape
the trauma stops my flow
and in your suppression tastes sulfur
hear the children say
tear the mended sails
how long must I wait
how long must I wait
till the mountains of avarice turn blue
how long must I wait
how long must I wait
till the moleskin I pick [bad word] fuse
as if suddenly your avalanche reverses my polarity and secretly...
I know [bad word] sunday morning you’ll be standing at the pulpit to an empty room
hear the children say
tear the mended sails
the drowning water you drank passed at my birth
I’m no longer willing to give you control