Kristen de Kline #67 - neon pink skies

while the animals were sleeping
the sky grew dead,     darkening its stranglehold
you couldn't breathe     easily
Chainsmoker: there wasn't a final breath    
an animal sky colour     you could call your own

while the animals were sleeping
a Tin Man wandered over dandelion fields    
under neon pink skies     searching
for a place to bury strangers

beneath the floorboards you were writing postcards
scribbling an obituary on the back of a napkin
gently shredded words, thinly sliced:
where do I start what do I say

while the animals were sleeping
the Tin Man hacked his shovel into the earth
did he chip a bone or was it rock
animal or human does it matter
Chainsmoker: you couldn't breathe     easily
as you circled the electric Coke sign at the Cross
wasted     in a yellow and black cab
you watched the sky turn     jet blue to neon pink
don't daydream in taxis
stop looking for the Tin Man chain-smoking chasing colours

from beneath the floorboards you can hear her shouting
in the back of some other cab, yellow and black
you can't make out a word she says:
something about a sudden change of heart life picking up
neon pink skies     blotting out dead skies
animals     not sleeping
places     to bury strangers
lying     not dreaming     in a field full of dandelions     wasted

there isn't a last line in this poem
I mis-placed the Tin Man ran out of steam stopped making sense
under     neon pink skies