What Isn't?

What Isn’t?

Another adherent

Is coming unglued

Under the back porch

Unprepared to return to

The fandango forest forces of the jungle

Lit up with torches by the guides

Traveling through the brush with barrels and tents

At the end of the following

At the beginning of

The moment of coming together

Over the front porch gables

Ready to launch the sky’s first refusal

Of tangential currency

Ready to burst the bubble of

The moon’s great insistence

To retire the past tense

In an instant with a flick of a family finger or

A trick perpetrated

As an illusion

But what isn’t an illusion? 

What isn’t a sidewalk or a road?

What isn’t a table or a stove?

What isn’t lost cannot be found

Go somewhere you may find it

Wait here and it might return to you

s. flot

8.29.2014