Through the mud — & imported flowers
Captured lightning — new & improved
& bigger & louder — & more dangerous
& the machinery of — love roars 
Over hissing steam — the cement factory 
A new feral republic — clips its wing 

Current crashing — alternating ignition 
Filament glow — wound steel 
Clang and howl — light back to the moon
500w of ash — blown from the cone
Dust blankets — serene snow 

Tie dye — head band 
Two finger — hand says
I — would never set my axe on fire
It only got too — close

The enemy — your enemy
Wants — a — peace — of — me
Sing ——

You won’t find me — on the side
I’m on top — & I can’t get up 

— Can you push me down?

Dylan Pat Cope is a Gulf Coast autodidact living in New Orleans, LA. His past careers include cook, gardener, fishing guide, electrician, mechanic, phlebotomist, stagehand, heavy machine operator, AV technician, dishwasher etc. He is not a writer by trade and is unsure of what his next profession will be.