served sufficient sunrises

experiments ripen their own truths

to grease or cool the body’s slickness

mixing time with the upwards air

flight turns the colors of the sky

dark and

hope becomes a rising shadow

as putrefaction’s funks upstage our celestial theater

hope alights again in the shimmering waver

of tossed coins

as the downward glance reveals

the threat of falling fangs to slice the

earth in two.

poetic ars