Warm Gargoyle

Tomorrow
the time-shifter
comes

for
some borrowed
stolen
returns
and
a livid color
to reprimand

this entity -
a conscious state,
bearing not the slightest…
wait
see it spilling over,
see its contents,
sober

and riot i
some volatile scent
in a land
a firmament
an earthly
façade
with no precedent
for the burn
to come

so perch on the cornice
my man
as we gargoyle
to the avenue
and catch the
afterglow of their cigarette-
stained lips
a sorry sodden
leatherette
a handful of
nothing i can do
a headline of empty blurbs
for you

or an ode to no one
in particular,
in other words
our time is not ours,
is gone.