cycling through this world
vascilating between mountain range
and the gutter’s stench
atrophyed light becomes holiness
in the sunrise’s moody gaze..
choosing the inimical lows
of today
we breathe yesterdays in
breath by breath
praying for the
sparks we knew were real…
instead of a more radiant
milieu
our reverse motions
let discourse and malfunction
in through barracaded doors
adding chaos to the
disruptive calm
of any day
called ‘today’