At the height of your distraction
take your hungry legs off and cover some ground
You have 20 minutes to reach
the bridge
a stream that has become yours by default
easter island pylons
a synagogue on the slingshot
Lazier hours in the park, escaping
the leviathan cutter, flesh exposed
But this is the height of frantic -
all morning spent
writing what you're not paid to write
thinking what you're not allowed
to think
This is the height of delirium
seeking her name in reference works
her home town in tourist guides
reminding yourself that this
will not end in a walk down the aisle
The final destination impossible
to determine, but
guided by the mystical - some say imbecilic -
properties of popular song
its contours, textures and fateful chiming
The path will illuminate as you walk
paved with golden instance
and mined with deadly intent
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