Project Atmosphere

April 11, 2014

Dried out veins of bark
occupy the repetitive foreground,
painted upon indifferent gray skies
that possess the same lack of life
as the energy drained branches
they are forced to encapsulate –
with every turn I re-realize that
the atmosphere here had exhausted
its final hopeful breath
long before its current time-endurers.

Concrete cavities yearn for mental escape
while physical freedom remains improbable.
Time sports sprinting shoes in this dream desert –
accelerated solely by its inhabitants’
self inflicted hazardous wishes:
“tomorrow will be better,
let’s just get through today.”

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