some things the wind once told me

*(so this is something i wrote in my caffeine-sweetened gasoline induced stupor earlier. no one is paying attention to this, right?)

no joke

  no words to be spoken

only prerecorded messages

  to get the pointing done

 and passed the streetlights

more manic than the

  stop and go that surrounds us-

the ebb of traffic

   meets high tide and

 soothes the waves in our heads

  in a tiny but not-so-crazy way

a sense of patience meets

     a patient's senses

thought out as far as the

   fingertips can press down on

 whatever it is they wish to hold-

there are streets in common

there are buildings all over the place

but there aren't enough screens

      to make the words big enough

not a microscope strong enough

      to see under these nails

for the quiet complaints

   build bridges-

or just walk under them-

or simply cross them without looking down,

  all the while wondering which doors open

      for all the ones, undeniably small, 

                who all the time pace

with the spinning of the earth in their feet