Trace The Sky As If Giant Fingers Took The Horizon And Lifted It Over Your Eyes Poem by jerome moore

Snake oil,
passwords.
like a wound that gushes
like a house that floods
I jumped a train the other day,
I put my faith in rusty bars.
The sun was falling westward,
The sunshine tickled my scalp.
Inside the warehouse boxcar.
Inside no breath meetings,
crawling caterpillar-like.
Painted on its inside
'GOD Is dead'
'There is no Gravity'
'This is it'
and I felt my mind cacoon
I felt my brain suspended.
We entered a tunnel
The darkness swallowed me and
I never saw daylight quite like before.
And I put my faith in earth.