Monday, May 26, 2008

Noun that I've been watching (45)

children run in little packs across the floor above my hotel ceiling.
unspecific punctuation muscles its way into my thought processes.
fresh weather makes the desert seem a midwestern transplant
to the matte finish of grassless tan.

the more the evening starves itself of sun,
the louder are the points of information
that from some dark distance
form a line of code
I cannot translate now.

baseline data pave comfort on the unsuspecting psyche.
from there, each cell's naive.
night, meanwhile, offers treasured space.
dream's own vocabulary plush with need
and a response to vast misunderstanding.

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