The following was written for this weeks W3 linked here

All sundayfied in funeral raiment
each like wilting angels trumpets
noses down in pursuit of frolic and folly
vicissitudes of restlessness
poke from beneath the skin
startled by the suns dim-witted banality
into frenzied parodies of butterfly wings
skirting and fluttering to dashing urgencies
yet never quite with the tenacity to breach fully, the surface
and in solemenity to our trivilialities
we cut ourselves to the quick