My brother slid away

My brother slid away My brother slid away. We can't imagine where he went to. This is a story of our past, red teacher, mother of she whose soul is black like her eyes and her songs are the proof of this; and he who drinks the moon for breakfast, feasting on the calculus of longing and the mayhem of the night.

So what do we bake with the flour of tomorrow, lover?

Lovingly, the bread of today.

The domain Listen, you said in the underground car park just before you slipped into the shadows. Listen, we were not forgotten. We were never ever known. We know ourselves though, brother. I bring my bucketloads of tenderness and history to you here in the underground car park, the one they kicked us out from when the powers and principalities descended on our town. Oh how we laughed when we heard the poor apologists explain that we were better off and less exposed if we were made to move from here.

Listen, you said. (And by the way I know you're never gone from here. They say you are. I'll never bless them, brother!) Listen, you said to me. Does anybody think we'll go away from here just because they've sanctioned us and breached us, preached at us, acquired our country, stolen our yesterdays, the silk and hardy timbers of them

Do they really think they've crushed our silvers and our souls by managing our sturdy little incomes? Oh I know we count for nothing.

Do they think we'll have nothing to say in the spiral that consumes and liberates us? Washed away with the tinge of forever? Yes, I'm numbered but not numbed. I am as canny as a bloody old dog.

Listen, you said. I own the road. Its hardness is my throttled heart. Do you think they can catch me, they with their policies and punishments? Not likely, brother. Not likely, you said before you slipped into the shadows in the underground car park. This is my dominion, you said; I, the dominated. This is my domain.