Beyond the bookmark at fifteen degrees where the words on a page tend to dry in the breeze, chill will **** us or before the librarians thrill us with outstanding new works by the brilliant winter of writers that approach me  like blizzards,
we'll be shot filmed and busted , fingerprint dusted and banged in the cells.

Where lithium batteries branch like candelabra and helium gases hold all in the spotlight, but we'll be alright having seen the movie before and before the kestrel strikes out at the sparrow remember how narrow the passageway is between here and tomorrow or yesterday.

If you wanna play chicken with me on the runway you'd better learn how to fly with the hawks.