We trespass insanity with great stealth  
at the close of day , jot bits of our self -
described tangled webbing to disclose later in prose ,
commit our imaginations to tap on the door
of the 'magnum unknown'
A goblet of red , a whiff of Borkum Riff , a
Moonlit tint producing a curious script
We're improvisational thespians surrounded by
our peers , Fire Ants on a forgotten marshmallow ,
a can of beer left in a hot trunk in Florida ready to
explode , a wind rattled Hound Dog trying to get home