poetry corner

One for the roads, collar off the cuff
lightening the ties that bind and
tightening the lies that blind
in a synchronistic euphony
"Oh, la la la" and so forth, onward
(quiet, damn your non-soul, quiet
lee the wind inside yourself
and it can still the panic)
highly liquid sounds are flooding
chambers of quiet
who is next to fill and be filled?
there isn't enough room here
for simulspontaneous steps backward
three tries, just like the carnie barker said
who is next to take their chance?
if I still walked in the evening
like the first man, taking the guard in
with some summer scheme
I'd want it to be just like this
not forever, just for now
with four winds raising dust from
non-existent corners and piling it up,
dune-like, in a mound big enough
to be buried in
in deed, in heritance enough
for me