threads of light

the summer's been cold,
and all the plans that it's crushed
were left fleeing and fleeting
or passed down to us
we try, but it's never enough to gather our sense
as we spend our late nights and mornings planning our
intoxication and facing the consequence
what's left of the day is devoted to rest
it's this iterant pattern, this pattern i intervent
it's this pattern, this iterant pattern that i divest
and build anew, built into an establishment
poems that keep me awake and the measures i take
to avoid the ranks of those who self-medicate
i'll never be that

are you seeing clearly with that smoke in your eyes?
are you breathing clearly with that smoke in your lungs?

pose, poise and impose
it's poison that flows through every impulse
you said,
"though i make my own luck,
the half that i lack is the whole we make up"
wait love,
we're caught in the fray
and just being alive is half a reason to stay.

what we've had falls victim to memory,
ennui.
on we who keep marching

onward
on and on and on.