When You Look Up

Don’t you know that if you just lifted your heavy
gaze from the pesky cracks in the road, you’d see
a glorious something? Maybe if you tilt your skull just right
all the bad thoughts will just fall right out.
Mud clustered together, the people
of the world march and march. The suffering isolates
its prey so there really is nowhere to turn. There are bursts
of pink light, kind faces have invisible tears but maybe those tears match yours.

Chilled, grey people with their headphones
and sweaters that cover the marks
from being alive, hands clenched but
no one is praying for change anymore. It hurts
that you can’t see what I see, etched above all your
solemn heads, some kind of hope. It feels
good to see clouds forming the down
comforter from home, the fat body draped
over the world.
Of the heart
of the clouds
of the skin
Out of every gash pours light.