Dead Bones

Bone collector

Marrow inspector

Hollow are you just a hollow

Man? Dead like a hologram,

Dead like an Instagram—only the

Photographs are true to the proof

I need to find you—all summer long I

Sang your song—hollow be my name

For empty is required of me—fast is how

It seems in this city of dreams

Freeway addiction is everyone’s

Nonfiction or so it seems—

Going down is going around—

The ship is sanded the crash is

Expected—water power for You

To walk near me, shadow power

For the cowards, aprons and tissues

For the issues of power, mercy for

The killers, power for the thrillers

That scare and intimidate—

Bone collector

Marrow inspector-

Dry is a lie that has been dead

For a while,

Gospel is good if you know you

Are bad—up to that high place has

Taken place, large letters and martyr

Splinters—I am not Paul, I am not Peter—

But I am where you have me—

Dead bones live,

Marrow is either full or empty—

Substance is now resistance—

Power is the future

The earth is now, the earth will be


Light is opened up but is

Light really in?

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