I had wanted to walk out again to go down the road, the familiar road again to check the doors like apartments in the labyrinth fiddling with the combination of the safe like a zoo chimp with worn Fisher Price toys.
The sky's horizon, a rusty blue that expanded into the crowd of stars and cold decoys.
The convenience store smelled like an ancient school lunchroom The texture of the spanish laborers hands told no stories as I tore sugar packets feverishly - my ideas netted by my mind, hauled on deck by my eyes and sorted by my hands as the belts of thought shake and rattle - time inching with the power of glaciers on fast forward
My poem, my harvest. I laugh - weeks in advance! I record with a diligence, responsible like a forgotten midwife: births, deaths; the embers in my mind, the ashes on my tongue the fire in my gut, old faithful boiler under flashlight of investigation energy lurching and awkward tango with the bus my romantic wheelchair my pirouette on crutches Dark Freehold puppet show and virtues of safety picking through the garbage, peeping through camera shutter windows illusions of moments weary audio mirages facetted horizons Japanese garden of foggy lusty forbidden glitter Abrupt record skip acrobatics flowering music hidden lips blooming dollars soft porn calisthenics my words piggy-back upon such greyhounds chasing the rabbit of today.