THE SLEEPLESSNESS
OF KINGS

removal

as silence washes out the peripheral

You pierce me with wonder

I know again 

the universe is filled with your glory 

In this moment 

the birds in the air 

might come and lodge in my branches 

measurer

the roads,

again, they vanish

but we are distracted 

either planning what to eat 

or wanting to be the hero in the fog 

as we contaminate the excavation with our presence  

night moves

as a program, as a flesh-devouring mist

mimicry seeks recollection 

applying new pressure to old wounds

building apparitions into towers 

before the sky opens 

and decimates the analogous scaffolding 

decoder moth

a folder just out of reach 

a security guard refusing to be relieved 

the anomaly at the weigh station 

a new set of forms to apply for authorisation

the bag of predecessors 

patents for the artificial sun 

earthmover

with the aether sealed

they can go back to prostrating 

hunting debris

submerging dead leaves

but blowing in

from the anorexia of the wilderness

comes the straw 

reserved to break their backs  

fleshsuit

the pool sours

from astronauts overanalysing instructions 

thinking they see something 

crawl under the banquet table 

report it immediately to your superiors 

each one turns on  

his suspension of disbelief device

eating the messages relayed for years 

superweight

This is the new landscape

built entirely from stone

And this is the gateway 

to the softening of bone

And with every dusk

comes the sleeplessness of kings

groping for their own hands

malformed from the amassing of things