a union of two eccentrics

the vulgar and the absurd
knit their hands together perfectly
the apparitions of these moments
these faces in the crowd
this bundle of sticks
reduced to a simple rhyme scheme
I wish I could hold these present circumstances
in my two palms
bare hands bear burdens and joys
joyously clasping your face
your knee pressing against mine
while our legs jitter
these postmodernist concepts
knock on the inside of your head
begging to be let out
one two three
knocks
I say and I knock a fourth time
this rhythm
makes me dance
unbound to categories
bark your heart out when it’s summer
and the sun pours from the floor
up it goes
up and up
no gods reside on the mountain you see ahead of you
when the lights are off
but you could be
ears perked up my way
my tail is restless
as I greet you on the highest peak