There lives in the everyday
On a Wednesday late morning sidewalk
Of grimy city and in the small town
In the overcast of pregnant skies

Just plain folks
Blind enough of their own ego
To wear an immunity of self like a concrete saint

You see them in timeless pause
And watch in awe and ache
As blue and grey birds
With eyes as cloudy as your skies
Rest peacefully on their fingertips
Nurturing fat bellies with morsels of a sacred stillness

Alcohol.
And train schedules.
A commuter's tightrope.
The last stop, Hpnotiq.
Where it rains sadness.
Where they're numb
To the moment of inertia.
Preferring instead to
Live on the rim.

To entertain
means to be starkers
and dance with veils,
to exoticize war
and tremble in
a thousand rhythms.
Bejeweled as a spy,
nevertheless,
don't know why.
Eye of the day,
and a dozen matchlocks
had me inertly settle
upon my knees,
before bending at my waist
to take one last look
at the fiery heavens.

The water
was lovely, dark, and deep;
wild and free
it called to me,
invited me in
what a shame i couldn’t swim.