Inner cinema montage
deep echoing adventures,
strikes of color, light, paralysis
held in violent emotion.
A mere babe runs away across
a busy street, hiding beneath bushes,
because she could, demanding
Dark city nights, hugged to
Walking through brick and mortar
past trashcan fires, street community.
Thumb out, shivering icy roads,
or flooded highways, bare foot
scorching desolate insomniac
Haunted explorations, led by that
fantasy aura obfuscating rational view.
Mini romances that cut through,
Across smoking stone overpass,
high to high school AP exam where
the words floated from rakish eye to
#2 pencil, an array of imprinted
Lying in the garden on cotton,
tasting boysenberry yogurt,
hoping the world disappears,
ends here where the bullied
anxiety won’t follow.
Quiet now …
I’ll tell you more on morrow