satellite dreams

satellite

every night
i sleep in the satellite dish
curled up tight
in its concave bed
people look at me funny
sideways
but they don’t know
it’s here
where i listen
while i dream
to better survey the heavens

at night i am unburdened
by the weight of shadows
crows always followed you
but i find
they keep their distance from me
everyone remembers you
as the devil
but you weren’t the devil to me

sixkiller
the devil’s not so clever as you
but he’s a genius of procedure
we shared his bed in that desert
watching time and him
reduce us
to the least interesting
versions of ourselves
waiting
for bullets
waiting
for triggers and bombs
waiting
until even bad jokes
and memories of home
died a formal desert death
following the rules of hell

every night
i’ll sleep in this satellite dish
curled up tight
in its concave bed
let the people look at me funny
sideways
they don’t know
it’s here where i listen
while i dream
to better scan the heavens

for whispers from you

 

Words and Image: B. Reeves

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