wings of darkened presence, I think
of my father beating himself with a chain
on the highway of death, an abandoned car.
The streetlamps melt against
an unyielding sky, and all is flowering,
all is justice and grandeur, rats climb
the veil of law no more, all is shrunk
low to the face of the earth
the skeleton lights of gone ferns
flinching against the light
and the laughter,

the black wings of a darkened portrait
fly the idiot homeless
to a cave flashlit by pained eyes,

wings of darkened perfection,
he broke a portrait,
in time, you will become a gaunt robot,
the inspiration ringing in your ears