Some men cast shadows in the form of giants,
And others in the form of laughter.
We were never subsumed by darkness
But by the spark that emerges from
The back of the throat in a fit of satire.
This city burned as your tongue pressed further
Into the ignition of your cheek.
We are the remnants of your teeth
That held words in the enamel
And continue to bite into the flesh of
This machinery, a mere homage.
There are 1001 ways for the world to mould you.
And, likewise, there are 1001 ways to interpret this joke
As we are living it.