Poise: On

I saw something in the sky:

maybe it was the clouds
cracking

or a slice of descending
evil
descending;

I can’t be sure…

Communicating with an
ethereal phantom
this past month
has been terrifying.

Like something out of
your worst daymares…


the sky bluffing a miracle
of secret storms
and sekrets…

you’re alone
in a world of unrest

like a hot glass of ice
trying to expedite
the creation of water.


But a bee won’t fly
to Iceland
to deliver a message
to a sailor.