Rise Over Run
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Rise Over Run

Nick Mehalick

A sign of wealth

Steps that don’t squeak

And a house

Without character


You’ll be outclassed

By me and mine.

The treads of wingtips

Across our foreheads


Here on the ground floor it’s known


The back staircase

Is ours

Hard won

Heartwood


Because it’s what remains


There is no illusion

Like stairs

Change their rise

Watch the money run


We’re a pit of lions

From the floors above

Mouths bloodied

At war with necessity


Our paws large,

Sharp and clean,

Pointed north

Your red hands dangling from balconies


Our witi poles pound shellac

And stain and wood we’ve sanded

Jobs we can do

Work you don’t


Anymore


You’re up there now

And there’s no getting down


No matter how far you fall


You’re up there now

And there’s no getting down

bird
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