Sixty-One

i am here choking on misplaced fingers spitting out
jagged dholbeats desperately looking into the
fogged distance for inspiration a miracle nothing
short of a dash of genius a sprinkle of enlightenment
scattered in the wind rain falls in spurts like a baby's
erratic burps the sound of camel skin pinched tight
around elephant's hide creating deep echoes of a
summer gone by all too fast moments flying in the air
like fireflies and smoke i tap my three fingers faster
faster onto the darkened patch of circle the circle of
life and love and this nameless feeling that impregnates
the air when the rain is falling and the sky is laughing
and the sun is playing peek-a-boo mortals find bliss
in union with the cosmic the earth is spinning on a
blue pinky finger and somewhere in the vacuum that
eats up all laughter ice cream death blue jeans and
poverty my dholbeats are sounding out a fated tune.