Self-titled

Imprecisely falling and bouncing off
improbable awnings, taut
a marble dropped on a drum skin
hear the sound like water in a rain pipe
breaking rhythm
degenerating chaotic ricochets
in the descent, self denigrates
continuity scrambled
like a shooting star burnt to ashes
Earthward, predicated by being
by an assumption
by tip-toeing through the disintegration
of a lonesome overgrown pathway going…
and that’s it… going and going, exhausted
conclusions shuffled like death camp prisoners
plodding into waist high weeds
of long dead nobodies and their loves
and acquaintances, enemies
and friends
turns turn into shifted shifts
paralysis against the drift
part time; over time
all time lost in debris
in denial
in development of deadened smiles
where who we are smacks upside the head
of who we ain’t
that place
where decisions define the being disguised
hidden in his drum skin ricochet desires
alive, easy, whimsical… out to lunch on the designer’s dime
go, baby,
go on and get it tonight

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