reprieve

the rhythm
unmoors itself
and 

LISTEN

there were
so many notes
and the timing
had broad strokes
to it. it was only
a matter of moments
before something like
this happened. quanitize 

the hits and let
the good times
resume. we're here
now, after all.  

feral city

 Well, the world conspired against a poem on Saturday, so here's one a few days late.

grim revolver. rolling thunder in the wee distance. each step is a miracle and a calamity. each little passing a heat wave all its own, another ubitious swing of the scythe to bring this year's bounty to market. stop staring and close your mouth: the water is rising and your bile is contagious. insert the memory card and begin recording whatever you see. just keep filming. this is all the good stuff. everything ends in punctuation marks