Why do i move toward my future
with such lemming instinct resignation,
the faint simulcra of baby pigeons
in the blind spot of my eye,
the catechism of critical mass
as elusive as contentment's kiss
or this
my past on broken legs
dragging itself behind me
no matter how many
thirteenth story windows
i jump from
now salicious thoughts
taint
morals and morale,
leave me lost
in the present
or this
buried alive today
clawing my way out,
up, into
the thinning november
air
not an escape from faith so much
as a blind fumbling
towards the warmth of burning
witches
i will number you
among them
-John Sweet and Gary Jurechka
November 26-December 10, 1998
(Note:This piece was a collaborative work betweeen both author's listed and should so be credited)
