I strive for clarity, always
walking the empty streets to find simplicity:
rummaging every corner beneath the outstretched skies
lifting the dancing dust to expose the fissures of human consciousness
uncovering eye lids and pot bellies below cherry trees and uncut grass
passing sinking ships or swinging hearts of lost souls, beggars, or artists
but, I fear in my straightjacket I cannot erase the raw names, promised lands, cold faces that clutter my mind.