William James

working class poetry // punk rock performance

A TRIUMPH OF YOUTH OVER GRAVITY

Everyone here is a rocketship
or a helicopter. Everyone here
lives in the sky but no one has wings
or propellers they just fly
like gravity is one big joke
& everyone here is heavy as feathers
or clouds or moonbeams or space, 
which isn't very heavy at all, 
so we all just float
& then sink & then keep floating
like everyone is so weightless
& fireproof & filled up so full
of air & rain & light.

 

[originally published in BIDE]

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