Another one...

I appear to be in "kneel on the ground-shake fist at the sky" mode.

... classes need to start so that I can be translating the dark soul of socialism into leaves and light.

Oh well. I don't think I'm even going to title it, but since this appears to be all I can write just now--and not overtly megalomanical...

---

I will--I will
I will break myself on the wheel
                   rolling the boulevards
      I will turn my head back
at the stars, and give them my gaze
               who don't answer
         between the hard earth
  and the cold clear sky
                    we are too soft
         smeared
                  like the stars are hung
         we are strung onto our bones
    and for their sake, we walk
              and by the ground's grace
we walk, and we return it our shadows
    well, God
                 I'll bind myself to the wheel
          and break along my spine
                    and I will smear myself
               on the asphalt
       with the sky clear above me
                         until I am nothing but a glistening
               a wavering reflection of stars
for this service, Lord:
            spare me your Heaven.

---

dusk, and the porchlight
gleams yellow, in the blue seeping shadows
and there is smoke in the air
and the wind in the bamboo
rustles and hums on my skin
there is, perhaps, the shadow
of a lap
the suggestion of a head
of a hand,
          and the rest fades
into dark, into wall
     and on the great high road to Heaven
  a trail, rocks bare
       sinks, down to the light