twice our dead

“Show me the way to never”
– Solange Knowles, ‘Exit Scott Interlude,’
   from Steve Lacy, ‘Outro Freestyle/4ever’

                          A burning Crown Victoria, skies
absent fireworks, drenched willows & damp benches:          the matter between thoughts,
             heartbeats of intention felt mapping the life of a witness; dark matter; red-shift across timespace calling on behalf of our dead, warm plastic on your ear:
thank you for continuing to hold / your call will be answered shortly thank you for continuing to hold / your call will be answered shortly thank you for continuing to hold / your call will be answered shortly thank you for continuing to hold / your call will be answered shortly thank you—thank you—thank you—thank you; repetition is the moment, its memory, & mother;

here & gone, then & now I sit with our dead & yet to be, unsung cries
chopped & screwed replay on the grooves of my mind; madness befalls us
all, the greatest is the worst of a generation; say: I am speaking through
my undoing, the sun & its death inevitable since bang & the same
is true of you. Hold my drink, rifle, & his triflin’ ass; this time we asked
the right questions and this time we were armed and this time we sang