Sugar Mt. Woods

We Can Hear Them
Asking "Do You Want To Be On Your Knees For This?"
And Drops In Our Palms
From Thrashing On Their Pins
And They Ask Us To Return With The Light Of Their Evening In Our Hands

We Still Hear Them
Breathing A Half Pack Of Majors Over Us, Coughing Words
Spit Slips Between Fingers
And Sticks To The Others Shoes
Yet They Ask Us To Return With The Light Of Their Evening In Our Hands

We Only Hear Them
Freezing The Tall And Malleable Skin Trail That Leads Us Away
The Notion Of A Nosebleed
Speeds Us Across Broken Branches
They're Behind Us, Shouting Return With The Light Of Their Evening In Our Hands

I Only Hear Them
Unfollowing Footsteps And Sounds And Disused Schoolbags
Filled With Maps Of Palm Lines
I Start Off Beneth One Of The Staples
Wondering Where And When On The Way Had My Hands Stopped Carrying The Light

CK