The headless chicken is history's second cousin / by Reckon

the heart hems around celebrated verses and ever do you heroes heavenly go

kicking around tucson's coast for a pill wanted the most, one studied for eons by panels of dignified ghosts,

soul contemporaries who point point to Shakespeare and hence the child appears in the room like Picasso re-birthing rebirth & recollections

once thought impossible...

the poem making history hers in photographs, prayers, velvet tomato moon-rain

breathing every ornate beat and innate beast where love way

where love way breaking out

where love way a bottle of earth intoxicates us fools feeding this pulchritude full of woozy cloud

by the fountain roundabout where dikhotomos caught a mouse.

the heart hems around her story

even better her fingerprint stars on the street diamond

becoming every no-thing in a hurricane baptism, becoming Man the mystery being.

Chris Weige | Austin, TX.