Midnight walk along a

dimly lit parkway, deadline

lurks behind amber clouds

alight with the wash of a

foreign wild fire; aimless and

alone, hums, drones to find

a place outside of this a

breath outside of the thing

that I think that I have lost

a slave to some organization

bigger than anything i’ve yet

to see, this tearing force; torsion

along an axis parallel to something

vaguely cardiovascular; magnetic

antitheses undermined by their

inherent dipole; I inhale the

carcinogenic air and wish that

the dawn would come to carve out

another day another footstep in

this slow grind, a sine curve racing

towards its periodic intersection

only to fall away as

fast as it came.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.