Aged Nation

The vast ornamentation of our weary, aged nation Billows over the wastelands Battered, tattered in the trade winds I sit still, impatient A face in the rock, a face in the clouds A place in the furnace reserved for the concordant of our bounds Birth, spiritualization Stone to flesh I imbue and am imbued Death, discorporation Flesh to stone Time and space unglued With interzonal gaze I drool And remain unmoved Fingers frozen, outstretched for temporal touch Temporarily subdued Turning house into home Turning house into rubble Destabilized Axis as praxis As loss is acquisition, is dying salubrious practice Like an iceberg I get by Carving my name in the sky Imperceptibly, incrementally shifting sands Disrupting tides Glacial, palatial, coastal Slow disintegration Welcoming the boatfuls Coaxing immigration Hosting mutation Vitally infusing this aged nation Blood to cold vein Seeds to soil Fertilization I'm carefully making my bed in preparation to abandon my station Merrily toppling, hungrily gobbling, burying meat in the ground Opening hospitals for future fossil fuel Feeding the ravenous hound Stone to flesh, flesh to stone Shaking the hourglass Making a home Flesh to stone, stone to flesh, flesh to stone Folding the filament Drilling the bone