Intuition

It’s that song drifting in your ear,

It’s the pattern swirling in your drink,

Where only you can see, only you can hear

You shake your head in disbelief,

You pinch yourself to spur relief,

Yet it won’t stop and it won’t end,

There’s no use in trying, no sense to pretend

Because no matter what it is that you think

There’s something more out there for you

And no matter what won’t disappear

One day soon, something better will appear

And the greatest thing of all, is that until you take the leap,

You’ll never know if it’s truth, in what your intuition speaks

Firecracker

Firecracker—soda pop—routine quenching of the mortal verb, Blissful bullet-points banter about the pre-pre-lingual pause—submerging aftertaste in the grandeur of the plunge

Addictive trinkets of euphoric punch—punctuating the blistered awakenings found atop the ridges of the bridge—where with it’s carbonated siege, all pleasures are revealed—as possible and real