Before the Ink Runs Ou...

Before the Ink Runs Ou...

By Sam Flot 4.12.ten

Like a piano player piano

Pre-wrapped in perseverance

Selectively disbursed

As if momentarily

Redefining the moment

Of wind or light

Window bursting through doors and

I saw it all

In the dark reflection

Of the black veneer

Surfacing gently

With the rarest of rarities

Subtlety and sensitivity

Adjusting each stab with uncertainty

Insisting attention be paid up front

Nothing stealth about it

All scattered plaids and free jazz

Circumstantial blown tires

If the magic is happening

Get it down on paper, get it down on tape

Before the ink runs out

Before your memory is full

It Is Yours!

It Is Yours!

Tapping into the sap

From the middle of the tree

The core still left sight unseen

Left unprotected by the wood bees

Lapsing back

Into an unexpected trap

Collapsing in fact

As if the truth isn’t stacked

It’s bloated and forgetting how

Even the truth should act

Semaphore warning

Totally intended

To leave me stuck here

With no pretense of

Alarm for the random

Chased all the gremlins

Back into their kingdom

Never following the left behinds

Never spoke out loud like this ever at anytime

Concrete and aware

This is my land

Have it

It is yours

This is my house

Live in it

This is my coat

Wear it

This is my food

Eat it

This is my water

Drink it

I will share it all with you

flot

1.26.ten