Thursday, April 5, 2012


In the middle of everywhere
you awake
at quarter to 5
birds already dampening down the darkness.

The churning furnace opens it's throat
and belches in harmony with the jet over head.
looping dreams & notions together like a paper chain
words lost with each closing circle,
rounding out softer and softer
until I can't even hear my own breath anymore.

This is a dream
whose name you are already forgetting
hold tight it's non-being to your chest
feel it soften and thump
like thunder trapped a mountain range away

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