Pilot

I don't know how to behave
 Reacting, fists dangling
 About the same time every day
 Sometimes an outfit blows in from the street
 I can bring in the bolts and sleep
 But the old flag knits and rises
 Shells and shards dust the yard
 I wish it was white, I wish it was white
 But it needs blood for the new erection
 I try to be light, stop the low talk
 But I am a coward, and Camus was right
 You slide like a bangle down the day's arm
 Waiting the hand to be given away
 But I don't deserve it, I won't wear it
 I know it's a gift but Christmas is gone
 I'm ashamed of the quiet but I want to be silent
 Always practicing, still no grace
 I get so anxious I need a tattoo
 Something binding, that hides me
 But when the time comes to design it
 It opens up like height under a pilot
 Like height under a pilot
 It opens up like height under a pilot