LATE COMER

Gathering stones to throw

to closed windows

It's that temptation of breaking the law

that keeps pushing me forward.
We're injecting chaos
so, there's enough guilt to the walls
slowly pushing them down
and there's
dust panic tar
and a withering sense questioning
if
age is the trouble
or
the trouble is age.

Unsatisfied comes next to my name.

Don't talk to me about belief,

I was promised a hurricane,

but,

I only got a breeze.