Five Alarm

A steady rhythm
Inhale
Exhale
Smoke-filled lungs
Inhale
Exhale
A glorious epitaph
Such a wonder opens before me
Coffers of splendor
A myriad of voids and endless worlds
A hooker under a street lamp
A gangster in a bank
A gambler in a casino
And the dead man in jail
This air of mystery
This fog of complexity
Death in sticks
Suicide in packs
Choice limited by your issues
Freedom hampered
By coughs and the sense of smell
But there is this moment
And there is this space
Where there is just space
And nothing matters
Because nothing exists
And you can ignore the tar in your lungs
And the smell on your clothes
And hands
And hair
You can ignore the frostbitten fingers
The shaking limbs
The futility of a lighter in the wind
Because in that one moment
It’s not about what you did
Or’ve done
It’s about that moment
And about the feeling
Of knowing nothing at all matters
It is a Zen garden
With rocks and sand
And Coy swimming about in empty circles
It is a forest of solitude
Of green
And brown
Of branch and dirt
Twig and stone
Because it’s about that feeling
The knowing
That on that Lonely
Dark
Forgotten Street
You have the power
For a moment
For a breath
To stop time.