he pricked rainbow colored balloons

with no chancery to destiny

rudderless traveler traveling on with

no answers

his existence is a day dwelling into night

and night dwelling into day

he isnt keeping count

nor is anyone keeping his

his many a thousand day

will either be a prophetic journal

or stoners fiction

for it is the sclerotic edifice

of clockwise biological intimidation

churning the inscription on

each sleepers tombstone

those lying beneath bare grass

have been laid to rest