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
Then
Light is opened up but is
Light really in?
