come the cool collected calculations
of this soft calendar curfew
searching for serpents and quiet poems
in the blue ruin dayspring
the mood is right
as the wind carries a vagrant vibe
to mesh with this holy mess
and beautiful disasters
linger just around the corner
as the ghost of yesterday smiles

but somehow
i can’t write this morning
elevated and eclipsed
on the fire side of secular souls
i’m just not wet and alive

free fall
feel the fall
coming with
expected half glories
as the walls of wednesday
are dismantled by tactile telemetry
and a translucent rebellion of the old gods

searching deficient churches
hollow with the sounds of substance
everything is poetry
but only to those
with wild ears

how to finish
when there is no initiation
the storm is over, yet
the goddess of summer
has one last trick
up her silky sleeve