we never know.
and worse for us that
thinking that we do.
-that is when the
iron falls…
i watch old friends grow
comfortable as cities
shrink to rough oil scene
-the quest recedes to
beach routine.
and my friends are sharp,
they cut to remind my
calm the place to find me,
beside Miss Morphine
lying now where the blade
no longer signifies
-where the air we
breathe is cancer.
speak to me in seven days
and I am told to go
or stay, seven steps
to heaven’s nay as
all this life I danced with
8…
and 8 will bring the answer
then, open the un-earthen gate
where news supplanted
by dancers.
“Pete, impale me now.”
it says…
the God inside the fox
and hound.
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