Sticks his head from our dimensions,
weed through concrete of the real. He
wants to be the howl after leaving coyote,
in language squared or maybe cubed.
Brain of mostly mystery, cycling through
a raincloud of unyielding clues. Scribble
over the lines of our lives if he has to!
Every step to power...till windowshatter,
what he says unbound by molecule, matter.
1st, he learns why ghosts are never heard
chanting their own names. 2nd, he finds
where we're not looking—there all along!
3rd, power is again the worm inside the air.
4th, the sun rises once, now and forever.
5th, 6th, 7th...then he stopped the world.
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