The conclusion of winter

It can go
in either direction,
and it must be easy to forget
the divinity
you never had
but always were.

Time burns like cigarettes
wrapped in dollars.

Holding the dead confederates heart up to the starry sky
to light the pathway we must take
to get us there.


We gave fire
a taste of our own medicine
somewhere down river.

If every note disperses,
but the symphony is forever,
then I just don’t
even know.

Every morning
someone fills a red balloon
and every night
it pops.

She stopped traffic,
lit her car on fire,
and jumped from the Sunshine Skyway.

Over time
I watched the anchors of ambition
get thrown overboard
fading away into the sea
of necessity-
I watched the dream world

I drink from the old well
of paradox.
A pot of water on the stove
is my slingshot into oblivion.

3 thoughts on “The conclusion of winter

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