All our souls at midnight
Sing on the shopping channels
…deep eyes and all
…thin veils pale
Selling ambrosia
…soup of your being
The emptiness behind it all!
The lightning
…we wished would strike twice
Suspended
…a moment
…just lifetimes
…hang fire
…of eternal nothingness
Muffled
So many sounds
…that are really layers
…that become teeth
…that grate the midnight hour
…that “clack-clack” happily
…sometimes
Down so many storied roads
…to wind-up
…alone, chattering,
…left wondering
…if what one really is,
…………………………..is what one does.
WritingWest 