one day

loosely based on let down by radiohead

we are shackled, destined for
ground life. dirt stains our feet,
insists that our creation is to be tainted.

she hurts us because mothers
only know love in the forms
of pain and beauty.
sends hurricanes and generations
of people with the intent of
hurting her children, yet weeps
on graves and the wind.

i'll grow winds and it'll
be twisted; no feathers
of wax, but rather
my own making

i'll string them together,
knife, tear, heart-pump
flights of gunk

and i won't fall even
with its taint of dirt-- it
is because i am can those
bounded wings fly.