<center>![mature-woman-850600_1280.jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmVP2PWg1mAw4SdCPZJdtcsqukWX8Qb7ULd8sRwns449bY/mature-woman-850600_1280.jpg)</center><center><sub>*[photo by Luxstorm on pixabay](https://pixabay.com/en/mature-woman-story-teller-reading-850600/)*</sub></center>
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<center><div class="phishy">UNCHARTED SPACES II</div></center>
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<center>Come conversate with me, 
Break bread and meat with me, 
Bless your god or mine
And offer thanks in your tongue
If you want or you can do
As most colonized peoples do.</center> 

<center>Tell your old stories with 
The old songs and morals
That comb the vastness 
Of your history and your home
Or let me tell you why
I did not go to work today, 
Why guns pop little boys
With toys and baby carriages,
Why hungry hips roll girls like
Rolled blunts as dazed mothers
Blink blank eyes above bruised lips
While young weary boys sweat
Babies into cold caked cackling pubes.</center>

<center>You can steel your voice, 
Clear the phlegm that glue 
Your words to your gullet or
You can spill the dam so
We can gather the pebbles
Between us and toss them
One after the other into the middle
And watch them skip thoughtless, 
Drifting away with the questions 
We dare not ask.</center>

<center>We can watch the moon
Gather the clouds and the sea
To herself as shadows draw 
Ugly shapes on the white sand 
Or we can sit before the oil lamp
And listen to the dancing shadows 
Mock the evening dark as the flame 
Seduce and roast moth wings 
And curious fingers of little boys
Whose shiny stomachs and 
Hungry eyes wait for your story 
To live, to breathe and to take a step
Into this here, this now
And awaken us from reality or
For sleep to come and take us
To dreams that will never 
Take a step, take a breath or live.</center> 
***
<center><div class="phishy">WARPED SPITS</div></center>