The Dialogue

Money protect Me, for i am of money Power protect all your children who love You may it be always, that we remain one till’ all accounts settle, and we transform into none passion for poem, wanton weakness in words I am nothing like anything you think you have heard chaos of rough draft order adds on each edit I give bread, and give breath, and you give me no credit my father, my father, tell me why did you leave me? the lust of a dust castle seduced, she bereaved me she robbed me of every singed hair, I remember she left through the cold chimney late in December I struggled to speak, in a world without ears I sought long for weeping, but never found tears I the day, I the night I am time before years I the moon I the sun I your most hopeful fear Me is not I, unless words could deceive us my bitterness feeds on the truth that you leave us you leave and have left, and are leaving again Me equals Us, and you leave us my friend not leaving or coming, see I’ve all come and left I have no where to go, I have no where to nest no bed and no pillow no blanket or tree you refuse to accept that my rest is with me don’t tease me or mock, with your promise of wages you, the dumb-deaf demise of our weak-minded sages you, insisting we work seven days of the week you leave my hand empty and return me to the streets it is for want of a road you must sleep in the streets I offer you rest, but you are always asleep I ask you to walk Your sun crumbled your feet I ask you to walk so you severed your wings