The Long Flat

the Earth presents, the
long shadows that are
sentences, both bound
and free, the waking
coffee and the grind,
the tablet and the
table, the morning
bacon and eggs, the
door, the door to tales
of evermore, the
bus, the city and
the street, the constant
noise, the traffic and
the lull, the changing
lights, the sky, the blood
of snow, the wind, the
wind, the evermore,
the space, the screen, the
rites before cold black
coffee with milk and
its evermore of
people and problems,
the score, the tally
the way the day falls
into afternoon,
and the mind begins
to stir — evermore,
oh, evermore, that
is the score, when night
begins to fill the
hollows with its void,
its invisible
breath and dreams and stars
so bright they crack the
carapace of night