I measure short distances with my eye
and the pulsing neon price in my bones.
Back to basics, I would rather melt in place
and be reconstituted among the grasses
than leave my soul among the self-righteous
corralled within their alabaster fortresses.
I quit the bunch and shed the nasty weight
of their guilt and hate for one another.
I want to watch among the remnants
when the angels make their gather, and
on the embers of their fire, hear songs rising
to join the stars—now that would be heavenly.