Friday, August 15, 2014

the red line.

the tempo is concord
searing air blasting 
the bodies
planning an upward escape

more than one man is lost,
an agitated woman acts like
a bystander, peering at
another man’s weary jowls,
a  reflection foreign
even to himself

slackened weight
and each dirty cog
ceaselessly revolving
propelling forward
and steadily upward

as daylight pours 
over them again
above ground


© 8.15.2014 heather brager