the world might change its wicked ways
on a clear, bright morning in November,
if the sea is calm & ready
and the satellites are perfectly aligned.

there is a heartbeat somewhere
underground, that defies lunar attraction
& the mechanics of wind; dependent not
on oil and foreign fingers, but action &
hunger & intuition.

there is a rage underwater that doesn’t
surprise me. there are expectations of
freedom that just might drown
in the real world.

in the skies above there are ghosts that
know everything. they abduct the best
futures to hold over our heads. in the heat
of the universe, blood runs thinner
than starlight. you’ll never see them falling,
but they will come crashing down.