Sunday:
Sunday, May 28th, 2000
Connections colliding.
Spawning recitals of poetry and song.
Redirecting wisps of smoke…
To the end of endings,
and the dawn of power,
You’ll follow my trail with your nose.
Hear me cry your name,
again and again. Will you know?
Repeat and redirect and reject, perhaps.
Overemphasize and misdirect and in effect,
destroy.