Mindprision

There is something to it

As the smoke coils out the window

 in strange little structures

pouring into this ostentatious city

mixed into the haze

of helicopters outside

the ashes rain down

a storm of mourning

pouring sorrow upon the city

in papery gray droplets

from the trenches of traffic

the misinterpretation of words

In the unexpected crack

There is profit to be lost

Shed in carelessness

Question,

being mind and being words

relative,

power that cannot be retained

evaporates deliberately

Beyond these lies

Beyond the machinations of this fragility

thinness whispering in the fog

lillying about social tension

reeking as overbearing perfume

the smog asphyxiates

the gross invades involuntarily

what even is freedom

from this and other cells

these and other realms

fragments of faction

reigning in disgrace  

marring,

those once beautiful things

now utterly absolved

in the flames of self

remnants I held close   

reconfigured in oxidizing ephemera

the torment remains ,

scorched into the soil

black marks administered to others

from some fleeting moment of opportunity.

landscapes engulfed in flames

Obliterating the ramparts

In Fear-induced savagery

The exile breeds observation

In unyielding tension

Revenant to the last.   

Without Dedicaton

she speaks of winter but the words never come

in long-sleeves holding coffee

in the whispers of what a new day will bring

there is a moment between red and green lights

between the bar

and the gallery

on a street so covered with graffiti

it feels like a coral reef

in the city

in all of the spaces where I fail

greatest among them is where I fail to see that I have succeeded

as I cross the street alone

in the hope that they are somewhere better than here