tree tops n powerlines
the new face of morning
in the clear
of a heavy rig’s exhaust
the traffic shuffled
to a standstill – attention!
at ease like always
you make it home
n gee you draw against the grid
or leaf a bookful of taint-free atolls
sunsets any satin of eye shadow –
you call again your lonely moratorium:
goodbye corporate box of life so long
ol’ friend so long mall hello my wife
my geodesic biodome in Cornwall!
n you live
like one of the bigger journals
accepting nothing unsolicited
except: what certain color shall we call that sky
the flying the ubiquitous bucket of flame
is hanging like a bell against?