Realms of Speed

Urgent as the close wall
odd in the ruined rain
we marched, greeted, sang
loved by clocks
arguing dreams, unfurling.

Hot sand of
burned light,
waves galloping and collapsing
their death shouts
the ragged rhythm of that place

but not these, honk honk.
Adapt, respond, be always
and everywhere
appropriate.

Give us not the drag of passion,
the sodden slowing tears,
the porous mud of rumination,
the obstacle of principle.
Beep beep. This kingdom
is a riot, where every agenda's
a king.

undated 90s