The Pilgrimage, Book II: Part 25 / Phillip Neal Tippin

Muster all our looks
Just to look for You.

While your rockin’
Your metaphysical pedestal—

I’m crosshatching a plan
Where every line gets an annulment

Just look at our minds
Walking about in faces and hands

So full
There remains no balance
Left to lose.

One little piece of thunder left
   over for breakfast.



All poetry and supplementary material: copyright 2020-2022 by Phillip Neal Tippin. All rights reserved.

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