low yo yo stuff
a gesture
dropt in cool water
the orbit salute of
wheeling atoms
sighing space between them
how infinite pause
they know it is
fingers curl round
a tin cup and handle
the invisible net drop s
we may be caught...
for one moment, almost
shifting backwards,
dueling thru a tunnel
the asphalt seems familiar
peeling random grit and funk
there is a light at the end
a lost intuition
of generosity
