Seconds/shorts/or/thanks fellas

sky struck gray

building face missing

orange glow

during the clouds passing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4am drunk 

cried against street

I, in bed, am

this bastard hangover

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Through the food shop glass

(I curbside sailing)

sits a mountain

unclimb back down retrace

steps already taken

(yes.  a stall)

I'll shatter miles of panes 

to scream from the peak

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

shop after shop after shop

after

_____________________

I'm sorry we can't stop for one second

always racing races racing who? The dashes

clocking the face the cowards slowing the pace

the significatos leading strides to lines

of the finale, always a rubbed out spot of crap

white and cloudy left on the windshield

after a light rain or spray from the cleansing

mechanism and a quick swipe of the blades

chaos conducted the course briefly and The I

apologizes (insincere) or sincere sarcasm

lame...blame the spewing pen-blame the

minimalism through the headplugs blame my

human need to repeat and steal and mold

nothing but blame the loss of track;

desperate returns to underground passing

rail trends ahhhhh home! I go here > you go there<

plexy glass doors all acknowledge,

respect, understand the lacking chances of meeting

and these glances the last hands shaken from

separate cars, separate doors, separate lives

trains and destinations