Snails in tunnels
lurching toward the
smell of simplicity.
Rain rushes towards the house and
suddenly nothing remains but the
Graveyard of Shells.
Culture clash with a lazy dash to
dream about dandelions and
open fields of fate.
Searching for strength and
my signal is low.
Candy crazed sugar rush
ridicules responsible rationailty.
Dreaming of deserts
disconnects the delusion.
There! is space.
There! Is time.
There the tide has slunk
down and away to leave the
salt to sterilize and
send you into flavor-pitch.
Rubber band snap of
those that strap my chest.
Heavy heave and sideways glance to
disguise the mistaken identity.
Veiled by dimmers and seat belts,
time leaps into itself over the blue in her eyes.
You rise up with you feathers and flurry.
I sidestep and hide lost in buried worry.
Spacebar blur and sigur slide into sunset.
I miss the coccoon and the
ripping of my own dear
sweet silk sack still stalks me.
Shall I light another cigarette
(to illuminate my face enough to see out the window)?
An autonomous chill sneaks up and sedates the swaying leaves into retreating into metamorphosis triggering nostalgia and nuisance. Shiny screws in a dirty window pane diffuse and delay the lingering light as it too secedes to a solemn sigh. Resignation rolls around my mouth but in due process is swallowed in anticipation.