I learnt how to dance to the sound of underground fireworks,
legs, burnt boots and clenched jaws drop around me,
like grotesque confetti.
I’m carefree, in peace with my maker, as I wonder between poisonous ivy
and twitchy mines… Must keep low and under the barbed wire;
I use it as a clothes hanger.
Occasionally the fur of a clumsy mammal is left on it,
like a tibetan flag, like a hunters clothes line.
The best thing about the military exclusion zone, is how peaceful it is at night;
there are no planes flying over my sky to interrupt my star gazing right.
I dance between two lands; my light step heals the World,
I steal from one and give to the other.
I carry stories from the outside in, and vice versa.
I smuggle love letters from those that don’t forget.
Many tried to stop me, but they stand still
when they see Death’s head over yellow paint,
they stay well away…
Their military boots are like magnets to my jumpy friends,
even the ones made of clay…
So let me dance and dance,
I know one day I’ll grow too heavy,
and my feet will disturb those that kept me safe,
and then it will be my end,
and I’ll be one tiny bleep among the stars,
and my confetti will nourish the land.
Tales from the mind of Kristian: Zone