Standard (EADGBE)

from the wreck of the ark

to the fading day of our star

the light races

the light drags

the moon rises

the moon sags

over the rolling waves

and your hands on the balcony

as a spine

pricks the world

and the shudder, deep, is unheard,

but you feel it

oh my god

as the spindle

flies apart

turn your bow to the biggest wave,

but your angel’s on holiday

and that wave rises slowly

and breaks.