Knell is actually a great word (6/21/2015)
mischief measured in brigades
overgrown innocence, painting
and dancing, arm-over hand grenades
wield the strength of a thousand ants
to capture picnics, dine and dash
fleeing like sand, chasing like chance
guilted hands, worn as boxing gloves
forever stung by dogcatchers, becoming
immune to poison chatter and stairtop shoves
laugh it off like staggering roadrash
biting on through the pain, faces sanded down
reeling: nothing like the thrill of life's best last lash
kicking and sucker-punching purses
of helicopter pilots downed, greater
than the sum of eulogies sung in verses
for us, for them, we're all the worth
the same pickled trouble, homegrown
on wicker skeletons; from death til rebirth.
we never really close our eyes.
we're never really dead.
sometimes you come to claim us and we're just not home
anymore.
'I live, I die, I live again.'
'I live, I die, I live again.'
