a step

crunched cases,

packed faces,

sipping elbows-

-to the races!

eating time,

feeding mine,

every other

minute I'm

taking steps,

oh, please let's

fill the cup

to the next.

it's the rush:

men and girls,

women'n'boys

in order fills.

crinkled plasts

and flavor blasts

a winking sleeping

bruise bleeds past.

The race for sunlight

turtle stance,

vomit trail,

and druggéd glance.

I keep the hearts

of my beats down,

to a slower, please,

to a sense of ease...

chatter sticks,

flips, flats and lips,

lists, lids and lashes,

pathetic starch ships.

in the row, cursing

birth, the search

morning past it's

own shanty dirt.

It's a damn fine

morning, here

on the road. It's

looking clear.

Keeping time

with the purses and

creased sleeves

of wanderers:

I am as false

as the good

morning - breathing,

an ornament.

So the task.

the plan. blueprints.

plans for further

stacks and stabs.

I have a silent moment.

duck my head under

the waters edge-

whoooof!

A crystal beam,

sounds drown

to a golden brown.

(exhale)

so tired. again. staple my eyelids up and keep hustlin.

shooof, shooof, shooof,

blinking for bravery. birds in the branches keep my shoulders rustlin.

kshh, kshh, kshh

(inhale)

get. that. for my mouth.