Fog Lights

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The rift extends over the horizon

and all around me

are shades and shapes

indistinct.

Soft hums

of far-off chimeras

echo in the distance.

The river of asphalt,

completely still

yet winds snake-like.

Pass the torch.

With the flick of a switch,

cast away the mist.

Burn it all off,

scatter the wolves,

the bandits

and the cockroaches.

Every puddle, pothole,

and patch of black-ice

exposed.

Every wayward wanderer,

given fair-warning

of approach.

Come with me,

I will forge

a path.

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Obstructions

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Sliding down the oil slick,

slaloming between caltrops,

backpedaling in vain.

Somehow, some way

we always find ourselves

in new gauntlets.

The labyrinth,

convoluted infinite fortress,

perfectly designed for long walks.

Follow the thread,

listen for the echos.

The more you pull away,

sometimes,

the more it drags you in.

You can’t fault the bull

for trying to exit

the China shop

according to his nature.

Let him blow off some steam,

if he needs —

then put it on his bill

later.

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Duos

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If it takes two to tango,

Then I must be the hammer to your anvil,

The apple to your mango,

The pan to your handle.

You’re the pictures on my mantle,

The flaming wick in a candle,

The bones in my ankle.

The Vandals,

Have returned to wrangle,

And some things are scrambled,

Dismantled,

And trampled.

But let’s not untangle,

Over just one scandal,

We’re not in shambles,

And  it would ruin the preamble.