I haven't an empty,
Dead-weight thought
For racing cracks
Of yesterday -

Cracks that split
Faster than crooks

Spinning in
Red-paced,
Screaming lights,

--

Times ago,
Are times I know,
Only in now's
That never end,

And times to come
Are simply from
Times, the same as
Now and Then,

So, when I spend
Hours within
The greenest greens,

Glowing near
Bashing violets,

Or dance with
The street,
Feet locked in repeat -
Communion
With dirt red brick,

You'll know why these things,
Tickle my wings,
And why I choose

Now,

As my
Sweetly,

Forever.