dowson shadow
across the street
and up your alley
how far to be determined
though control is unobtainable
at least not sought
to seek one goal
many worthy instances go gone
like the wind in decadent days
roses not smelled nor wine
what is not sniffable
visible, derisable
the unheard orchestra
waves internally crashing
reverberations veering
and careening to be poetic
it is
what it is to
dip your hip to the swaying
of the ship that
surely goes only your way
when sunday sundries
and so-called political parity
part red-faced in pro-people pose
peering unending into eyes
less than an inch deep
thoughts whose reach exceeds
inevitabilities of existence
or inches toward them achingly
seems if your radar
picks up anything which makes
movement for it's sake
decide then
what it is too
Poems: "dowson shadow" and "it is" by Robert Lescatre
Painting #1: Sam Flores
Painting #2 Sarah Jackson
