Every year I can’t comprehend another quarter
I anxiously await and loftily avoid the thought of-
Pounce on every forgetful ray to-
Release hot air in defiance of-
The sterile spray of the other side of the coin

The ashes born of Ares’ antithesis clings to my arm as if to slow me
Calm me-
Yawn me-
As if the earth longs to all together toss probability
Budgeting all the uncertainties of life

Finding stability in the isolation of population is what it seeks to do
And I am sure of it
I am one with it
And in my hatred all I view is the sky filled with static

Particles and the ever-certain participles scattering on my lawn
But it’s lonesome-
And how it is cold-
Without the midsummer clammer I find myself in scrutable control

I can’t rid my head of the pervasive interference
Is it no more than I can avoid that the-
I can’t absolve blame if the-
Equinox persuasion is the fray and rein of my of control?