Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing the thinking,
or the thinking is doing me,

I feel breathless, weightless, without consequence
propelled forward upon a compelling stave
my pink feet glide beneath the dusky sky
full of carniverous cumuli
I am naked on an overpass
a concrete ribbon laced with cars
my world is driven senseless
with constructs of iron, steel and glass
there are murky recesses beneath the green
that switch and ripple and shy
I project my fears as a vomiting sheen
where hope and fire reside
the white robed moon in its ashphalt bower
dips in and out with pressing rhythm
and i watch the twilight blink cruelly out
a hurried word from him
I am seamless, timeless, relentless
propelled forward upon a compelling stave

Sometimes I tread a luxurious carpet of thoughts
with eyes anchored aloft