to the stars to the stars

He is who he is

He is who he is

with a buzz on

He is who he is

cicada vibrato

singing blood singing bones

He is who he is

slipped by in the dark

rushing to mark the sliding away

One last son striding by

speaking slang of the streets,
scratching and shouting survival

He is who he is

and so are we all

chanting and drumming,

twisting and reaching,
We are who we are

the nightfall on us,

on our deep dreaming breaths,

driving ourselves as if we could climb

from the depths of our well

to the stars to the stars