Hope I get another hit off
Before the cops break down the door
If I’m selfimprisoned
then wind is bound in a box kite.

arrangements to settle engagements
on the day and time when waning moons wax into ordered placement
grown ancient
comparing the feeling of born infant to bored placate
options which are inevitable
empathically indecisive
chosen by paralysis
encased to contain incompetence
breathing air rather huffing ether
the space that dwells in our divisions is empty
and inconsequential
alone echo reflecting the thought of self until it reminds you of another
the other
theory of mind to construe the feeling that conscious action
occurs uniquely in every skull as it might in yours
frantic realization that the eyes might be watching us
judgement harken from the trumpet
valve stem flurry from compressed breath in
asthmatic strategy
standard to gleam dull rust fragrance on the fresh keen
edges for days
ledge is the way,
leaning over
looking out
perched for when the bottom drops
topping off until.