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Lyrics "Extended Technique", Athletic Progression, Brother Portrait

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My stock
Migrant flock
First generation who didn't fly home for winter
This kid was born in spring
In the era of
Corduroys and olivetti
Corn beef keys and paisley patterns

On the peabody block
Top floor corner door
I was cloud high in dreams but heavy in the air
graceless and tumbling
I wake flailing on the bedroom floor
Halfway out my pyjamas

On summer days
Small and all possibility and potential
In my coat pockets
Hands flipping the folds into wings
I scaled trees and nestled in their wisdoms
Heard whispers in my ear
First learn to play the flow of air

I lept
And landing a soundless soft compress
I fell on my feathers

Young though not naive to the doubting ways of man
I told few and answered none when I flew
Lest their shock suck wind
From under this buoyant boy

Still suttin got me clipped

Cos all I know is that
For years now
I have been falling onto bones
Friends who could scarcely imagine me walking
Now shudder at the thud of my body
Lift me off my knees
Keep dusting me down

In this photo see a young me
Back when I had my wings
See my feet keen to tuck under as I lept to flee to
fly
It is proof
I was a dreamer not dreaming.