time's building bigger
	   	this room, and smaller this person that fills it;
days stretching to weeks; like
		blades of grass to a lawn wider than
hourly scissors can prune.

		a man of garages,
yet all the cars park outside,
		like sperm knocking
		on a concrete egg.

a rock star,
	 	singing to vampire shadows and
silhouettes who love plants
		for their ability to smile at the feeding sunshine,
and grow beyond their parent shells; the
		dark rooms, reversed photosynthesis
sharpen the sense to sniff out
qualities to make life
	 	bearable again.