No Heart

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Nick Zazove

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To be everything to everybody
Pressures me to sleep-in-a home of sticks and stones. I seldom
Throw my life to culture. I hoard the individual words that poets
Synchronize like swimmers of tide-a lake's in my
Head where vultures crash over bread
Prometheus taught me how to burn the rustic charms to invest in
Easy Riding my pockets stitched with alarms, where karma's grip makes
Every step my allowance. Pins and needles
To dowse with
Sick or I'm broke
Give you my papers, I
Dart back to the archives. Capital binds us
Holy. Handshakes make a day worth a million
When only death is promised, I value life as it kills me

Careers die with no drive. I sit inside
Hear cars trickle through blinds like fruit flies
Drooping from the eye, to LED lies a trap
This pickle jar of a measure for worth couldn't make up
The funds to flood the waves, the guns to flex my brains
Yet silence breathes these echoes. Jealous of any
Gains from peers that live a new day I can't erase
My Escher stairs make a circle. Tears in a drain
Gloom taints my joint, I take a walk in the clouds
Build labyrinths out of dreams that squeeze me into the crowd
A hidden gem or the fly. Hive or a god
A sunny day with my headphones, moments that pass my mind
A desk job away from makeshift pride
Deprive my audience a Maven prize, hiding my fire
Either I keep it safe or ignite my stress into fame
Or make a living apart from my ego still in the rain

Each gift you've given me
Floats into the current
Tickets meant to slip away
Freedoms shaped like memories
Left behind to bake
The toxins drained
Where tears fuse the nation
Fault lines remain intact
Listless years pass
A body of work no one man could tell
Apart from the work put in
The meanings of the land
Indivisible
For liberty and justice, I fall

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