Disposed the long hours
sight unseen
reels of smoke at the
iron gates
as maybe scarred with breath
like taco tuesday on a friday
Monk & Coltrane in the air
while feathered shadows
out there
deal seeds & mushrooms
bottles of dark fogmist
sand darker than that
salt milk foam hissing
prophetic
who fails, who escapes
knocked from the karmic loop
whatever is going to happen
like it already has
to what purpose then
a late turn in the drop
explaining less than that unwritten
equation
with palm tree silhouettes
carved into the sunburnt sky