going out going in
watching the sound of White Ladder
who says impulse - these days -
will save my soul
who says this is all.
I watch the sound of White Ladder,
feel a surge of poetry, take to the pen
and tear, pay homage
to the page in Violence -
pluck, punch, piano-script
and its always falling
down, line bye line,
trapped in this raging self-awareness
this spark without exit
this pop without halt,
rising up from my station, rearing -
hoofs plant solidly upon the earth.
face aimed upward towards the null-void sky
eyes forward. alive! alive!
to walk now, walk onward, step by step,
in this lightless hour, catching blue electric faces
standing amongst the bass booming