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these edges pull
too hard
the systems
fray we can not reach
the flow
through which comes ease
in such arrivals

gone across
the grain
we stand pointless
too far to turn
too distant
yet to go
items shift
and are not one

there is no belief
overlays ignored
too many theres
for self to be
too much within
which needs without
not even bleeding
the colors of the light

it is useless
empty and so vain
we twist the altar
into something else
proclaiming truths
no others want to hear
echoing wisdom
so often put to flame

some exile
oh so far
gone to cities
which only lurk as names
vague in tracking
from the mind
which knows the history
but can not cite the myth

               - Brendan Tripp

Copyright 1994 by Brendan Tripp