chasing these fleeting moments of poetry as they speed off
doing seventy in a getaway car, barreling through a thick fog
the dirty orange glare of headlights are refracted through mist
while God’s voice screams from their naked halogen bulbs
so I watch the world flying by, intently, with my eyes closed
listen to its myriad chants, howls, and roars with the sound off
and a blackberry haze wafts through the air, a sweet decay
the jagged crunch of leaves echoes for an eternity upon the
edges of Oblivion; cobwebs posted up on the street corners
strangers wander through the mist like they’re lost in the abyss
a spare leaf floats from a gossamer thread, knitted lovingly
by the Black Widow perched upon the tall oaken boughs
of Yggdrasil, bowed, like Atlas wrestling with gravity
gnarled fingers bereft of their wandering children
and the sky is vacant, an abandoned kingdom
rust descending like the rapture in reverse
Gold and Scarlet tumble prematurely
and in the field, an ethereal glow:
the neon light is a siren’s call
Piecing together the perpetual jigsaw of these scattered thoughts
Fragments of beauty scattered amidst the mist and sprawl
Cause there’s a paradise in the ashes of Camelot
A tempest on the horizon and silence within withdrawal
...
