i want to watch the miles pass beneath my feet
feeling fresh air silken sheets against my face
running under cliché clouds and symbolic sun
straight off silver screen and into newborn night
not because i believe in a certain satisfaction
or happy ending heroes going home glorious
while choreographed conquests ask questions
left unanswered by assumptions of immature
or perhaps just quietly content pedestrians
who can quickly forget the fleeting remains
of final frames while names make a way
across the screen and off the pageless plains
leaving only a lack of color in their wake
masquerading as night when in reality
they've given birth to the breaking of day.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
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