below the eviction

The bottle is running out
And it is peaceful here
Though calm
The orange glow
Is desperately needed
By room 1 below
pure blue of the pilot
the constant unravelling
the spooling latency
Of heat
Fire
Eventually must diminish
And nature decrees
Not long now
Depleting
And bailiff’s believe
In conviction
Of eviction things
our stinging eye ball close
to the radiant heat
The winter glow cheeks
Painted rose our face
gathered round, the meek
The wintered inhabitants
Of the condemned
We all sat and stared
Friends on cardboard
Fuelled yet depleted in worth
Hypnotic a dance of tongues
Drawing us in, narrowed girth
we go alone
Closer to authority
To fire
To burn or to freeze
The question stirs
An unease
In mortality thinking
People huddled
We talked, we tired
We tied bonds
And we cried
to escape the thoughts

these are scouting days.
these are hovel ways.
this the homeless glory
slays the hope.
a campfire joke
Of fireworks
And salt peters prior
to open canopy flaking plaster
we tire
We miss the stargazing sky master
Of destiny doomed
The childhood games of satellites
Spotted aliens telescoped zoomed
I recall
Our door can’t hold out for long
The cold will kill the tongue

The gas is running out
they will be crashing soon
buckets have been  re arranged
To catch the inevitable downpour.