Umbrellas
I take a walk around the block
past many private, passive occupied zones.
And I keep on walking, and I scheme of hammers
I’m building holes in the fences of homes.
Under a sky that turns this colour
only at this time of the year.
I am moving at 10, 000 miles an hour,
fixed to this planet spinning.
I cannot be extracted
I lose my breathe into the air
I cannot take it back
Scoop it out
I take a walk around the inside of my head
past my fragmented, bias history.
As I walk I see me performing,
more or less than I know.
I scheme of umbrellas
of an open, civilising knowledge.
With 15, 000 years of blood,
remember, the roads are awash.
I cannot be extracted
I spill my drink into the sea
I cannot take it back
Scoop it out
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