Drift

I dreamt the king had died &

Come to life &

Upon a throne of warped records

Kurt Cobain growled 

My girl, my girl, don’t lie to me

Tell me where did you sleep

Last night

And up the tar-stitched avenue 

Goethe dished dogeared copies of

Faust & frenzied

Citizenry wailed 

O beautiful for spacious skies

For amber waves of pain

And Cobain rifled out his 

Powder-coated brains &

Heavy rains reminded one of

Fables of invincible Old Glory &

Upon front-door rafts drifted we—

Survivors, naysayers, 

Stayers of stale philosophy—

And a new wet world resurfaced O

So blue, O so green & in my

Prayers I answered the question of 

The bygone musician whose needled

Passion soared always toward

Emptiness between stars:

Last night I slept in the kingdom &

Tonight, I learn to swim.