Plume

White smoke like clouds pours out
of the factory in spitting distance
of the casino like no one free could know
just what was being made there.
The crowds though didn’t care
and stood in line to empty out the time
left in their pockets.
The track was full of giant hats
and olives floating lopsided
against the beer contained in clear
white plastic cups.
Another metric known as not enough
to tip the scale towards balance or
at least the other side.
Where all the city gates were open wide
and anyone could travel the perimeter.
She likes to lay under the power lines
and imagine what it’s like to just be energy.
I tell her there is nothing more enslaved
and that is when she gave me back
the books I lent her for the winter,
when it’s easier to look up at the sun.
A separated sheep was now the only one
left out there in that field where all
the train tracks of the world converged
and sparks emerged from all the friction
off the wheels. Another simple way
the world could say the things it feels.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s