The sounds drew ripples around us
containing us
wrinkled and transformed
waves of consciousness anchored
bearing witness to this gathering
of all matter created in our image
a conglomeration of everything and nothing
a hoard of haves and have nots
a buildup to ‘just fucking stop!’
Too much, too much one
too much none
a climatic climb
an anticlimactic drop
rust falling from antiquated props
traditions burning candles
with prayers answered, not
swindled of thought
trajectories yet untold
falling below this ocean
of accumulations sold.