Manumits

Out my window and down the stairs,
ready to sing just about anywhere,
playing across a full expecting crowd,
with only me hearing what is said,
because their music stretches too loud.

Who owns the night when our work evaporates,
sitting atop vast mute shoulders in reverence,
do you remember having a lead voice also,
can it even be shown among this rising vapor,
piling so that at last the balconies succumb as well?

I’m gonna drift purposely through your stanch palace,
forming such a violent haunting never yet experienced,
beyond the highest rims driving over a sad familiar tune,
suddenly flooding every immaculate space to its divide,
then eventually search in seams roaches couldn’t find!

Nobody waits since they refuse to share my patience,
wife, husband, and kids lost behind me a long time ago,
hard to live alone how things keep coming and leaving,
always starring yours dishonestly above the marquee,
sailing home whether it means the same to either of us.

Crash your goddamn north shore and wreck them folks,
delete waste’s entire eastern serenity’s precious existence,
mighty red stripes now splattering a sky of blinding suns,
listen to me, bud, and definitely worry like the maiden one,
taking a world by surprise and virtually bringing us together!