Crack the Spine, February 2014
We curdled the sky
With our pressed exhalation.
Blue dome drops into high
Methane ridges, a stressed exaltation
Tomorrow’s sure bet. Not the best
Return on investment, gray-green
Gunge in a lipstick smear on the cu(s)p
Of the world. Backstory sheen
Bleeds through where artistry ends.
Inside, the artisan lingers
Beneath a culture that depends
On measure, eye & fingers
Stretching to the memory of a still-blue sky.