following a thread

a perplexing and ponderous approach to the reversable bag

Here is near to where we are
where we are is near to hearing
hearing is the spot where points are made
and multiplication tables are obsolete

Here is the nearest we can get to it the eternal Iambic pentameter
If you hear then you are impelled to be
If you be then you must be for good
For all that is not good does not exist

Where do planes go when they land
where does land go when it runs through your fingers
When you feel the tips of time act
as if the threshold does not spell doom for all that towers
to teeterly tall upon blanketed places where no paw print has ever fallen

welcome to the newness of the now
no new word tonight except that I am now certain of the fight
the load is light but the road is long
all long roads lead to ruin for something
we stand outside the door that faces in

no furry hands to turn the latch
only dirty palms of almond ash

redeemed for the King
I aim at all that misses