a life-jacket made of stone
i know the risks, that’s the buzz
what else can people like me do,
punching through the wet paint of a scream
to probe the depths of our own insanity,
a gruesome flavour
to test the snap of a bone,
curbing the crawl to a canter
where the pale candles light,
we learn our skills and masonry
through experimentation and need,
the depths are a slain depravity
our conscience a pure and lustful greed,
i’ve graduated from a life-jacket
i now own a wet suit made of stone,
to be a frogman against the undercurrent
of all the things my heart has learned
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