Unbound Faith

Faith is unbound by extremist pressure,
Lick the wounds of a liberal fissure.
The point-blank wound given an emissary,
A Soluble cure for the target preliminary.


A fast food chain of asphyxiation,
We give up hope for the stationary.
All falsehood gospels of visionary,
Cough and whine under political disciplinary.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Short, but to the point, I would think. 

Ode to ETS

did i ever tell you how much
i like riding the bus?
especially on a winter morning
primordial dark
insulated from the city in warmth
and shadows

i like to let the rhythmic whir
stroke my ears
coffee and whiskey in my belly
with eyes half-closed
sharp edges and hard yellow lines
shimmer and pulse

i like to slip in and out
of sleeping
we slough off layers of the city
like dream images
only half-remembering the route
taken three hundred times or more

i like knowing and not knowing
faces in blue light
we know each other's secret
morning ritual
knowing looks filter through
anonymous space

i like feeling that this route
could last forever
always moving on a boundary in time
not arriving anywhere
and did i ever tell you how much
i like riding the bus?