we are they

it's a wilderness in here

big dreams, obvious obsessions

shepherded fears in flight from hope

i run into the arms of tomorrow

even there, i am left waiting

an inert rendezvous, almost

anticipated connections, unmet

at less than one degree

becoming a distant assembly

masses synoptically disconnected

unplugged and unwilling

and always online

electricity addict

defined as precisely as

approximate and ambiguous

a clear haze of emotion

a zero-sum limbo

indistinguishable and undistinguished

from one to one other

entirely too soon and too late

that is what now is

and why time always wins

broken and infinite

we are where the magic happens

we are they who make it

a woven basket rides on my back

filled with my wild thoughts

a lot, but not all of them

a couple are high-risk

proven to cause problems

some took a walk to the corner store

but they never came back

three, one, maybe two

aesthetics, purely

chaos and fringe

for the dramatic exit

one more moment known

theoretically relative

to those before it

chalked up

to the compliment it is