Untiltled

A great arc of light flashed across my brain last night,
Inasmuch as a naysayer might reveal all the trespasses of a life's misgivings, a wild eyed smile cracked the corners of my face,
half out of amusement,
Somewhere between hell and a heart attack lies my great and un-abashed symphony of nonsense, awash in a chaotic and lucid city-sea,
sandstone and granite be my tidepools,
glass and steel my hurricane's eye,
The spine of urban streets reveals frailty and decay,
Hillsides of old Mexico asleep in the distant evening,
Structured absurdity, a neon assault,
outside my window,
a man is shouting on a 3 AM street below, preaching alone into the abyss,
He's found his gangrene of the mind,
a cape of thick creosote knotted loosely around sagging shoulders and jaunty frame,
a super-hero for the mad,
Alone with my red lights and rafters,
Footsteps disappear down the hall.