A Gathering of Promises

88 tuned drums
An errand too close for statement
the talking proximity, dumbs and goes human
to meet the Journey Agent
The duty free gift to the traveler
Everybody's hear's heroic
from the point of view of violence
the eternal progenitor of dream/scores and relic
un-enough to tell
The mechanic
oil on his hands, that if he can just get to her in time
the greed will become erotic, and vanish
like adolescence
black messengers
If one of them breaks they all --

They all like
that wasn't mine
I'm renting these vows from the language west
All I own is the bill and the woman-- yesterday's

Revolution
Revolution
Restitution
Sunshine sung
I don't even know anymore
lyrics that don't shunt from allure
and leer and risking your detour for

The 88 wills of maybe
there's a spirit when they combine
this close way we either destroy one another or make one another better destroyers
from of the point of view of royalties
We play the song as long as we mean it (pays)
And when it is memorized (popular)
We blame its sudden emptiness on memory (killer of hope/lore)
I know it too well to listen
Didn't even notice it was on
It is my heart when I wake up singing about pretenders with dingy fists in their signs,
that borrows and burrows
an autograph from a lithograph and when they happen to land in the same pace
promises to live that way in time to make it true