homo habalis insecta luminous

In a brisk fall dusk,
when two seasons shifting
make one,
I fled city streets and urban lights

And arrived at the port of
graceless
flying machines,
smelling of forty sleepless nights.

Through a blood-cell flow of man-made viens,
where we transport ourselves,
Shifting between tubals and ribosomes,
I stepped on board just where I needed to be

Hugged by my seatbelt,
the engine rumbled in upward shot
and turned the sight of sickly pavement and concrete tops
into mangled television static.

We coasted through evening set skies
And the metropolis down below
began to twinkle,
like diamonds that a God had scattered across the scope.

From down there I could still see suited Erectus
courting and cupping Lucy, walking on a pavement
that smothers what originally pertained to annilid faunus.

Thrashing faster and farther away through smoking clouds and midnight darkness
The winking street lamps and freckled cigarette butts
give their last
best attempt, at sight
as we propell into vacuumed buoyancy

But in the dark space of Holy Matter
I feel as though I am there too!
among them

X wraps her arm into Y.
Their knees crack into step,
and she gazes breathlessly
into the hand crafted horizon

For now they are arthopod insecta
arachnid chelicerates, weaving silken city webs
Coagulating pulses, beating closer and fiercer than thyne own

Our flying sky ship moans again
And the vibration of its wheels and wings
Stretch and tilt in air born waves

We hit in light exhalation
And the body hums itself to a calm

In methodic silence throughout the florecent lit cave
people remove their bags from above their seats
and shuffle down the aisle in departure

spilling out of the thin vesicle tube,
One by one
We scatter
into blazing city bulbs.

09/21/2003

Posted on 09/22/2003
Copyright © 2024 H.M Stevens