More Palaces

Lightning races soft and dishonest across sky and pupils and here
Where shadows sleep with the calls of night birds
"Heart stops" cries the reckoner
His eyes ablaze, his skin bronze
Arms akimbo as the sun rises and threatens to burn
Them, you, me.

Dear dancer and faint whisperer- I have called you a hundred-million times
My mind daring me
pressing me to "go on, act, what ever it may be".
Very good then
and what brings on these flowers and bullets and cat-smiles

His name was Dave- my father's father. I am told he was tall
He was struck by an automobile while walking his dog.
He did not survive
I was too young to remember him
But, I like to think he thought the world of me
and did his dog understand he was gone and never coming back

When I weep, it's for something or nothing at all
Where will we end up?
When will we be...
Where there be room enough for us?

I hope we will need more palaces.