What Remains
They teach you to you that revolutions are swift or that they never are.
They teach you to you that revolutions are swift or that they never are.
And is God not a manacle
Outside the city unravels—billboards, half-built flyovers, and a guava-seller.
Years later, I find myself drifting again
How do you report a government to itself?
watching the sun bear eat star fruit call it a first date.
Scales like quarters glinted
in the wintry sun
He said an eagle needs the sun on its wings, needs the vastness to learn to fly.
the god is the machine, swooping in to halt the peat
I don’t think I believe in god.