The traffic hums, the hounddogs are off the leash
they howl while surrounding the hidden holiness of geography in withdrawl.
Fighting for a piece of ground down heaven
where prey falls like first generation war caualties
coming in waves like Civil and WW1 cannon fodder
Fortune tellers perplexed, mind readers bankrupt.
Space awaits for the unpredictable to reach point A or point B
Waits for gravity to lay down with the lambs
Waits for the deadpan to find its poison
and get a reaction that the gods will sing about
Universes collide, inside and outside , shattering a reality as dialectic as breath
pain pounds on the window
fears fly like vultures after the battle
numbness seems natural
the elements await a new deal
not prepared to leave the table
No comments:
Post a Comment