"Karcist"

Vagrant sanctuary. Garuda
contrails guiding long
past this train running out of its own-laid track.
Pallid indigo traiking
halcyon.
Wispy path
into a day without words
and our mapmaking drugs us to know
ordinary caladiums burrowing,
liquids carrying.
Long ago i ran with witch
piracy;
saw dawns on a cold, difficult road.
Now garudas follow chanting songs of war
and a still calm waits
in shadow.
I am swift with its abnatural
glidings. And to watch
is to know instant ruin,
morning built up out of torn cars lost gladly;
iron and bad music.
Rumorous
or only fog, so i swink
till an actual blossoming, and garuda
land on a spot of known paradox.