and the blue nights would light up like fourth of july fire works on hype days of lore … long ago like 90s fashion … this is film, real delicate silver gelatin print, digital oblivion … this is history before my eyes … and they were beautiful lights against the horizon cloud lines… i believe, you see, i believe in things … but brights lights in the sky aren’t always fireworks of independence and numbers can mean human lives on the tv screen … i sit in blanket comfort distance … still cold as if on the melting ice polar … opposite ends of the earth … refrigerated crisp and ready for years of storage .. they say a week can be productive in war … we can get a lot accomplished with thermostat ideology … technopoly … smooth aerodynamics i always ran my hand over on those new cars … fast and furious, furled and nauseous … i rock back and forth as if the earth were shaking and it is … there is awe and i remember a promise once that we would always be looking up at the same sky … that sapphire, midnight 30 sky … i suppose skies are actually different and some atmsopheric discharges are authentically Iraqi … i ran outside to see that promise in my sky, that same apocalypitic flight, that same invasion glow, that firework destruction, the green background blur of cities against orange fire … yet all i could see was a sheen of empty speckled black lying … it is blank and will not tell me if it believes in anything anymore …