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Rumble
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I Walk Naked Into a Cloud
I am overwhelmed by history, defined by the signs
of the hills I have climbed to arrive at this table.
The deep rumble of the trucks as they travel
to their destinations permeates the very
essence of expectant release I seek.
I am surrounded by buildings that circle like
cowboys in the west crowd in like sulphur
stealing breath. Circled by the dark passages
of starched minds that frolic in the sands of their
uselessness. Salesmen knocking on doors that find the
people inside watching television and commenting
on the weather and the state of the economy.
Buying trinkets to ease their collective guilt at
being so totally indifferent to the shadows that live
all around them. I am conscious of the
flittering neon labels that become identity tags
worn by green grass to define its place in
history. I cringe with the air so heavy inside me
that I must push aside the blue skies to arrive
at a place of my own design.And arriving,
sensing the glorious end of every known
