Give me the wide-eyed ones
The ones who have a story to tell
Who have seen who made?
the diamond and tipped it over
To pick it up
Crooked eye magnified
And had the strength
to shatter it
Pieces strewn and scattered
a ruined holiday
Give me the downtrodden ones
The ones who have been told
They did not see what they saw
Didn’t hear what they heard
Didn’t feel what they felt
That their existence is
Propaganda for the state
And slips a few slices In
Before he slips
Through the back door
Give me the ones who do not sleep
With thoughts inside thoughts
The ones with nothing to wake up to
Except the birds and the branches
And a park bench,
Chains clinking
An donut shop opening
96 cents for coffee
These are the ones for me
Where the only things that kept them
From crawling in their skin
Who’ve walked through fire
And felt the bumbling of the
Hive mind
Give me the ones who do not
Know moderation
Or paths to follow
Except their own
And walk down the line of the sun
Excessive, extravagant,
Unnamed.
The first and the lonely
A good fight, a drum
Give me the ones with addictions
To battery acid and filth
Whose sensual legs gleam sweat
In their midsummer sighs
Give me the soft ones
And the calloused ones too
Whose softness was carved out of them
Sliced open their wholeness
Chip by chip,
Whittled away at the bone
until it cracked at the center
And fell
forward backward down
I will meet them there
Give me the ones who suffer
A hand clasped into mine
We will take our heaviness
And jump off the dock
Into our down comforters
Of words and nature
And the softness
Of grieving eyes
Of the single love
That binds us
The love, all there is
Give me those
In their circle tribe
Howling at smoke
