I saw Abraham Lincoln in the sky tonight

Surrounded by a legion of stars

He overtook the shining moon

A penny, a forgotten friend, a slowly creeping Mars

A bath of innocence swallowed by alluring toxic red

Against my will, I must lift up my head

The encroaching darkness beckons

For understanding, if nothing else

The blood-dimmed tide swoops down in unyielding movements

On oscillating wings

Squawks demagogic whispers into unsuspecting ears

This moon will last forever, consume yourself in fear

Break out your metal pitchforks

Gleaming blinding light

March mindless through the streets

Into the blood-dimmed night

Reflect your well-meant mourning

Onto every passing sight

Succumb to blood-dimmed tide

Dragged in on opposing tightropes, each on a loose, mismatched end

Wrapped around a spherical sea

Look, there he is in the sky!

Condonement in natural copper intervals

Those distant gleaming pitchforks shine back in affirmation, ironic points of light

This is our calling, slash sharp through the somber air

Human flesh is butter, no?

Red mirrors dripping mirrors, our own ironic affirmation

Stab these tools of spherical identity into sinking earth

Pole vault into the affirming air

That beckons with blanketed points of ironic light

With a silent thud, fall impaled on the next identity up

Paint the world in a blood-dimmed tide

Communicate with that ever-receding bit of inundating nature

Misregistered language

In hopes of some response, some affirmation, authentic points of light

It's all a desperate cry, still screaming at the sky