As the sky is removed from my feet
Be Good. And notice how the world remains unoccupied
however you manifest your Destiny... at best you get
Colonized by a Hoard of pure nonsense, with your own petard
hoisting the very Circus Tent of your Memoirs
and the footnotes we are actually
Plus the stars crossed and lost teeth...
a brute force merigold in a plucked grief
chiseled from the Bedrock of god's blunders
as we torment the perpetual Enigma
How we insist upon the faculty
without Divine consent ! we plunder the lumbering atoms
of our daily bread... salting the rim of sleep
couched in the misery of our very little Joys
while cursing Angels that fall on swordplay
and The Play is the very thing
your Father warned you
about
an uttering to con you from your bliss -
to best entangle the witchcraft of your sundered Love
and the shriveled thing your heart craved
when it was Good Night.
But nothing left
to **** a mocking  
bird.

the martial art of winding up somewhere
you mastered long before you noticed
and you were

There

just before you arrived to get the shivers
thinking this had just ( recurred )

Just Now.