Petals fallen stick to tar

from a lilac massacre

a meteor of melting sugar

stacks of bent car frames

swaying squeaking in the backyard

shocked rings of radiant stones

around the rhythm of a planet whirlpool

Strangers of my life, all

floating downstream

from the echo's land

that launched bright blood creation,

bone's cloak of burning sex

If favorite alleyways could

cut up the night and prevent it

from ending, if pine needles

could negotiate with a shaken branch,

if puddles frozen could enter

my bedscape from a careless dream

Maybe the beams of sound

are ever reaching,

maybe the road will flick like a tail

away these dead skin cells

and crawling light

to a faster track inhaling zero,

hands that touch electric trails

come to make up a sand hero.