[Dave]
It's cold in the yard
I don't know where to start
Everything is already tattooed somewhere
The real world doesn't want us in it
Everyone else knows how to swim
But how could you drown us?
Bouyed by the wrath, and the air is thin
There's some halt in the way that things seem to work here
[Chris]
The sun’s radiance reaches us in eight minutes but given it's age
Given the ever expanding nature of the universe, somewhere
Four and a half billion light years away, it's solar winds are breathing fire for the first time
It's flares dancing through the dark to awaken the worlds at their birth
Is our being this buoyant?
Is some celestial observer watching us through a series of glass lenses and mirrors
Jotting down notes of our yesteryears
Maybe of his flight across the country from the place he called home to the place I’ve always called home?
If so, on what star, on what precious rock, does his life still shine?
I’ve been tinkering with lead pipes and gunpowder
Aluminum frames, fein saws and soldering irons, steel
A fishbowl from the attic ,my astronaut’s helmet
Winter gloves, snow boots and overalls over a wetsuit to stave off the cold
A notebook of his thoughts to stave off the loneliness
Infinity didn’t feel like anything until I was among the stars, searching for something that I had loved and lost
Let us hope that the duct tape holds
And that my misguided science and memories
Of his crooked coffee-stained smile
Can lead me to a place
Where his light still illuminates the days
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