Head in the clouds,
Soul on the brink

Of salvation and/or annihilation
At any/every moment.

The signs in the sky
Appear to point out our future in space.

The signs in my mind
Seek to find the path home to source.

But the signs on the street
Are marketed for entirely different ends,
Singing their songs about realtors
Who have erected
New neighborhoods
As far as the eye can see
In this suburban wonderland
(Call Alice;
She might know
The truth by now).

Chopping down trees,
Chasing deer
From their home.
Come meet me at midnight,
My friend;
We’ll stare straight
Into heaven’s void together.

I too know
What it is
To roam.