An Ambiguous Mass
by Cliff Pyke
…An ambiguous mass squawking
no sure idea where they’re walking
no sure idea where they’ve been
in the deafness of their masks
sinking…
…down many hidden destinations linking
impressions in their sand dunes thinking
of disappearing invisible winds inklings’
spoken in cafeterias’ babbling
brand…
…burnt on blank white hot papers’ land
traced by abstractions’ mysterious hand
onto slates of concrete wings heavy girth flying
within your grays’ cloudy ambiguous births’
dyings…
©2007
Written by Cliff Pyke
Thursday, May 17th, 2007