Commando in Syntax
The sound of passing cars is a song named Doppler.
I imagine it in an earthquake
and/or other dire straits.
(So strange being this near road
so quiet when not loud,
a stillness built for quickness.)
I slip into the wet math of my mind.
It is populated by spherical inklings
that glisten as if with petrol
(and face forward from any side).
I think of something soft and try
somehow
to make it softer,
swallow my own breath,
Imagine1β¦my ramparts receding.
-AND COLONEL JOHN MATRIX SAID UNTO ARIUS THE BANDIT COLDLY, "FUCK 'EM"-
(my serenity is a gun.)
1As if with jazz hands