we the living

everyone lives
no uncivilised deaths, no more of that muddy nonsense
not the bloodstains, mind the waistcoat
too old for the moist florid of pixie garrotte
yes, we think before we do
think the thinking of our glorious, supreme race
everyone : one androgynous dominion
everyone : the sole life
marching in our own barbed gardens
the rainy terrain where we skip the stragglers
be not stingy with our dumb stupor
through man embody men

where is death now?
he must lurk; he who invisibly
swore to life – honour for experience
we the penurious are the pestilent
we spy rising tides of bloodline money
we salute the morning and jaguar sun
money is their sacred gene
money never dies, money shovels homely ancestries
into street corners and the five-second grace of car parks

aim the bile but toss the cakes
we are quick to come to roads,
we are slow to cross them
we could live in between –
live whole, complete lives
(sit chumbling ice under the million suns)
before the midnight crunch and
friction stench and rotten struggle
(damn the brake and down the tires)
of oblivion