I Got To Thinking And...

I can’t wrap-up my brain folds cardboard castles wrecked the streets alive with dingy beards and missing teeth and blind blathering billboards are the horizon unable to look past the signs battle with fatigue and brilliant litanies of life shaped in loud crashes and wheeled spokes of red light because the hills have burned black to turn away from golden parcels foreign moments twinkle behind the still framed distance always just slightly wavering as if through the heat my eyes will focus even after the equals balance on the surface it sinks into sand breathing deep grains forever and for nothing an army is on the way to shell out for the prospect of decreased certainty but I am not between coward screams or cubes of watermelon in red Jell-O giggle security measures right through crossed hairs and metal detectors painted grey to inform the seriousness with regret to slalom solemn through check points head down to paint the ground with heavy handed reverence could not hope to make eyes reflect us all in each glance of a baton stick or cattle prod or manufactured tennis shoe or hot dogs or candy apples dipped or shiny diamonds unearthed or blood soaked tampons or a uterus picked clean or a head be- or Portobello mushrooms grilled or books printed large or hats worn side ways or jeans pressed just so or actors greeted millions or car horns playing reveille or my ears and eyes and nose and mouth and face and arms and legs and chest and dick and asshole and toes and fingers and skin and blood and breath and all of us probe deeper the crusty earth to find the heated center boiled till firm and yellow and dead and salt and pepper and teeth dig deep to taste the sulfur in us all