Isnt our world like these histories
hidden in plain veiw?
All around the records,
the worlds the towns
its always up to tomorrow
to matter the more.
And the patina clings,
the past in silence calls,
and tomorrows one to the next
play out like songs,
the favorites, the treasures.
Take your measures of human in consequence
add yourself
to the collective scales
weigh in.
I should say i havent
idea all im saying.
These articulated incidentals
navigated in prevericated gestulations absent minded, uncommanded.
Simply seemed to land here
in no granduer
and no particular manner.
Its not difficult
to run up another banner
of anything at all under the skin.
I lay upon a story long
and patina'd in the service
of nonchalance.
It is not all at once
these roses will bloom.
Its in an unfolding marvel
of mystery in a magical
season when mists of reason
set in slow as fog
wrapping realizations
in noticable gusts,
& breezes breathing intrigues of life .
It is early even nearing
am as it is.
Im a child's quarter filled excitement
in a front pocket,
next in line in the candy store.
Playing mature as if its only anticipation. This is  the restless energy's
replete insanities of impatient,
cant stand still somewhere
within is growling
and my mouth's watering.
Eyes wandering sweet to sweet,
Im already on a sugar high.

© All Rights Reserved