Untitled

Maybe

if we ignored the darkness

Then

the light would have no excuse

for not showing up.

Ghosts in city lights

Perhaps words
are people
with bipolar disorder;
now they are dying to be said
when we are all living to die;
the manic meandering
through lost fields of coherence

then, moments later,
not looking too wise
nor frightfully fearless
- they are here to stay

and yet they lie in wait
still they stand in line
to traverse the sky
side by side
on another day