I don’t blame myself

for tripping over

sidewalks or wanting

beyond reason.

It’s no bother

keeping it to myself

now; staying awake

most of the night

and dreaming away

the day is as good

a plan as any

to survive surviving.

I danced with machinery

in the form of crooked

man flesh and bagambo

fresh thoughts-

it was all I ever hoped

for and not nearly

long enough. We played

spoons until sunrise.

I hope for another round.

The sun is too far

to make sense of its shape

but the fallen leaves

have sharp edges,

enough to cut my skin

if I choose.

.

The danger

is not in where I go,

but how I get there.

And I am so open.

We’ve gone too far

when we find beauty in chemical afterglow.

Screwing the soil

beneath our feet should be dirtier;

are we monsters

for craving the light of an oncoming train?

There’s no disaster

sweeter than our own self-made ruin

and we revel

in abundant ill-gained knowledge.

We’ll keep trying

to lick the wheels that will run us over.

eagle flew out from behind

a brick post

dripping with ice

and it flew to the rhythm

of the big digger

in the lot next door

psssshhhh…. guuuhhhh… psssshhhh

without dipping a greeting

or passing along any comfort

– that’s not it’s damned job –

I stood as a crowd filed

past and around and I watched

as talons tucked, wings spread,

the flight going higher into cold layers

leaving me peeking behind

a brick post,

the digger operator pretending not to notice

my awkwardness