Grey, Atmospheric DayGrey, Atmospheric Day
To melt: into the grey, atmospheric day.
Thick and brittle crisp rouged leaves
crunch under-toe like chomping
a raw apple, ripe from the tree.
The chill in the still.
Between broken-up embellishments
of air brush, pass on by.
Through only, not a stay.
This grey, desert day of cloud
the sandy, black and white
cloud spread before the earth
ever-increasing, never ceasing
parched monochrome sky.
Singular: the dull of a monotone
(the plural rain) in lengthening periods,
interspersed. A few dampened pebbles:
now darker the bright of their sheen.
Into The AMInto The AM
Everything was as it always should be
the lights were flashing low fragments
of pulse and jarring. Colored the hue
of things you can't describe, but comprehend.
More of an impression and the distinct feeling
of directly being there, but only for a moment.
There were differences in the rooms
as some were outside and some were in. Indistinguishable
since vibration pattered at the walls
and being dizzy but not enough
to not enjoy dancing like drowning
in a thick, smoky room: four thick
smoky rooms, disconnected in connection.
That's what it was a disconnect in connection
as time phased into the AM with arms diving
to scoop out haze, and the flashing carried on.