angst cycle (iii) — [b] (i)

the man of the battle sky
asks his forces
marshals

striding down
huge to human
from pollution’s signature

the red sunset cloud
to red marble steps
brandishing paper

the written proof
his steps seem to say
handed down

i half expect an orchestra
of syrup
to start

why i’m dressed perfectly
when i will never do so
i don’t know

but he brings the paper to me
tells me
in his confidential confidence

tells me
tells me what
you will never know

brandishing your nosiness
into my half daylight dream
go steal your own

some people
just can’t keep their noses out
of other people’s tire–bursts

go steal your own
go overwork
and steal your own