if i were asked what i want
i want to bring something uncertain to
doors and stairs and what falls slowly through and
down and up them

i want to speak the words that bring sweet tears to
cars and cubicles and cyclone fences and brick façades and all the hungry and lonely
emptinesses that call them home

i want to raise a hammer and drive madness into
idle hands and happy feet that build only things and dance only steps
taught under the light of neon beer signs

i want to retire comfortably
in the knowledge that lovers still cuddle
with cheeks covered in playfully stolen kisses
innocent of dreams shattered and hearts crushed
near a slowly dying campfire
at the hidden lake