( via / me )

Three wheels.

“the wood smoke
toppling trash cans”

–@poem_exe

Karma.

“Fegfeuer”

Distances i never chose
& those to come
converse together where i stand
abandoned & dumb.
The birds sing shrill & very loud
in a crowded tree;
i wonder what it takes to cure
futurity
that sings within my bloodstream like
a psychic gale,
& yet allows no single bare
airt to prevail…
So i remain, & cobble whims
of crimson from
distances i never chose,
& those to come.

(1993)

Scatter the leaf scuffles.