never never and maybe
later gone again like silver
fish darting from shadows
ever to be caught?
the ideas stumble
catch and crumble
splayed on the concrete
and burning from
the sun’s heat.
Archive for January 27, 1994
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When does it all come crashing down;
a sawed-through tree trunk,
an old building downtown —
this balancing act of teacups and champagne flutes,
china, crystal, candles,
coffee, coriander and cinnamon.
Sanity on low wattage wire
heating up in the house walls
threatening to start a fire
when the force of gravity falls.
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