pulling from the deck, revolver, pencil, stand-off; what is truly known?
running on gossip, the court of opinion hears; pitchforks and torches. the power is out, doesn’t seem like a good plan; let that fear shit go. pounding on doorframe, is that opportunity; trust but verify.
Spread around on the floor, bins of collection Bits of acrylic and fingertip charcoal dust Rustling canvas, adjusting layers Hands reaching for colored pencils Wooden sticks trilling A distraction Potted plant knocked from perch Dustpan and crazy glue later We have a new creation From the leftover destruction
Delicate beauty, Harmonious eloquence; Torrential downpour.
have you heard the news, pushing rocks up mountains; we are here with you.