Sublime

Force fed
An alphabet.
Wined and dined
On Pacific time.

Romanced by
A plot of grass,
This shifting mass
Runs out of gas.

So it seems,
These laser beams
And twice stitched seams
Have found the morning.

Don't cry,
It's swarming.
I hear the buzz
Now, just because

I'm hoping.
Enough of coping
With second string.
And another thing,

I think I've earned
What's now my turn.
Now turning faster.
The fasting chapter

Comes to an end.
I've got the bends,
But never mind,
It feels sublime.


3/19/20