vagrant

Cast across town my skeleton's shadow is privy to the wind's internal dialogue. A vagrant does not make sense to the trance of blank faces beneath a sun's autistic fire; I do not have the satellite of work to transmit an identity, The night scatters it's cards to the kings and queens, some are not meant to reach the games ascent, their provenance unknown, I am shown a route by the moon an ambulance-to angels without wings that parachute out of graves. A ventriloquist experiences his dummy's dreams, flesh and wood and blood won't mesh-those with homes tremble at the distant caress of the concrete wilderness. A dummy is pregnant with fire his master cannot reach.