olympia

it cannot be born in this
word, not in this world.
a shrinking sunrise scatters
the window. in a city
dead end to the sea.
there are those faces whose names
will never die. they were
never even born.
spastic and callous. the street
the sky. horrid freedoms
of artifice. not unto love.
not unto hate. just this.
unhoped for. a pretense.

swirling smoke. drowning
time passed in cool. too cool
too hip so as to be forgotten.
chained to sidewalk wilderness
morality. not even vicious vomit,
churned up soulless fauna,
nothing. sully this
citizen pit.

without liquid monotony
how would they find their way?
already forgotten by the sun.
mental disorder no spirit of history
can cure. this madness.
it only makes sense to those
senseless.