There is no eclipsed suddenness to want
for any more. They dragged it out truth
licking and steaming for no digestible
eye. You pose on the flagstones, patio,
pool-edge, veranda, dispossessed of forty
rounds at least, the night overcome at last.
You sought fashion found revelation where
fear dialled down opened up the perspective,
and then too open, calibrate it, adjust.
We are all one in the many though how
to stick a foot to the ideal and the real
in the daily journey. No time left as
you seek a discontinued medicine
in the deserted pharmacy. Fumble the latch.
.
Scott Thurston
.