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Off Course
Knock the carriage
Off its course
And tumble
Off the horse.
For a moment
There is clarity in distraction.
Amoebas dance themselves
Into their surroundings.
And we can understand
Their open form
The basis for a spirit-action.
A brush of slime
Sweeps over your arm.
And if you let it coat you,
Cold and sticky
It will cover you from harm.
Beginning is end.
Flip it around.
Let it all linger
And harvest rain from the ground.
Disengage the harmony
You found in sound.
Pick the locks.
Test the waters
Of a muddy brown.
Mister Mystery,
You missed a history
Of bliss disease
Through passion antihistamines..
Stretch your tongue out now
And taste simplicity
Of willingness.
Tenderize the mold.
Adapt.
Assimilate.
Soften shrouds
And scintillate.
Tonight
You are allowed.
