Crash landing I suddenly fell thousands of years old That black dog of vulnerability I am a melting slow flake In silence Of your mysterious contemplation Maybe afterall That 6 year old Is beating up on me when I was 5 & I reminded you of your own similar I wanna build you up Not tear you down Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2026. “Talk”? “Talk”? She said About what?! & yeah I like to talk// Think before I speak? What the fuck? I stew then I spew Right? I don’t divide things up into categories Of CAN say & CAN’T say What? Talk! Words! Mouthfuls of air!// Great Now just say something that doesn’t sound like you’ve said it before What are ideas To a poet? Boxes ...
why yes why are the stars of the same dance as your voice maybe after all a man can still know the music of the spheres in the middle of the traffic & this city of trillions of being on this mysterious journey? the pepper tree watches & listens a mynah bird flies under its protection