dawn came

when dawn came I got myself up and hit the street. you know you’re blessed when all what’s inside you — all your thoughts and feelings stirred together into a psychosocial paste — has the same consistency as a cool and placid sunday morning, touched by sound and light

flash

journal # 08.31.16

all i got this morning is a lot
all i got this morning is enough
all the soft edges of society dissolve like stitches

‘precious dawn’ by k

the last polite evening has come and gone
august given away by september
fade to dawn

‘see’ by k

the run on

The run on sentence ran on and on and on and on…

The need to stop was critical. The need to stop and get quiet. The day was about to dawn. Business. Business was about to go boom. Which only, which only accelerated the need. Things would naturally accelerate, after dawn. Needs and things.

Dawn was the flavor of the day.

The day, about to dawn.

It was dawn.

The run on sentence ran on. From the night before, when she started running. Not away or toward, just on. All night long, before the dawn. Despite any desire to the contrary, the sentence ran on.

Still, the need to stop was mission critical.

The need to stop, still, at dawn.

An objective was percolating. Percolating @ dawn. What with the coffeepots, and all over the place… Kettles straight-up whistling out in so many ways, varying by the size and material of the pot. Diverse kinda whistling, all over the place.

Churning out the boiling blood of the city.

Business was about to go boom. The subject, become object. An exciting time, indeed. For some. For some this was exciting. Others slept right through it. All the way to the bell of the stock exchange, which maybe woke them violently. Or maybe not.

The subject became the object. For only a while. Because the need to stop was critical. Bookends were helpful, in stopping things, before and after the boom. Before and after all business went boom.

Author unknown. Photo by Katya. 2012.

Photo by Katya. ‘Tag off of Telegraph. Uptown. 2012.’

The run on sentence ran on and on. And on…

Before and after business. Before and after dawn. Before and after the whistles and bells. Before and after the dance of subject, with object.

Before and after, before and after.

Always percolating and predicated

by nothing.