Fool Me Twice

You might think velvet w/a silver lining
falling down stairs (didn’t spill a drop)
a long tunnel out from when impossible
hydraulic palm trees in the empty parking lot
inoculate a feather of drifting fog
just now starts to dissolve
The sea-breeze strumming the wires
No real choice but what darkens the blood
seven miles from the vague notion that
there ought to be twenty one steps from
here to the beach (there are 32) & nothing
follows you across the wet pavement
except a few rogue rain-drops & the
Lankavatara Sutra like a chainsaw throbbing
in the ridge-bone above your left eye
& whatever else was stashed among
the needles & pearls that define this
early morning ocean light