walk the wander silly boy floodgates let loose
the warmth we shared as water fled between gabled storms that
burn the world’s roots inside-out you and me in pursuit
through migrant shade
with a magic telescope spy on thanatos where’s the
sanity in calculating time now scribble a face now the
wrong kind of nose how we hoped to see ourselves in yesterday’s
borrowed light a scene written to completion when
it became night when we became spirits in the rain
counting purple shells.
what’s the point in calculating time it struggles underfoot
with the hint of dry-rust hangs on our ink-stained
palms a cinnamon scent of sand the end result
of sublimation what about or about or discover parables
in coins listen with sharp ears to a foreign orchestra in
preparation of pre-hibernate myths
