One, Two, Three

Life and death

One two three a blast in the chest 

knowing some people have not had any 

rest, no rest in the heat where we sleep 

fighting for one beat. A beat that 

we're trying to keep having it repeat over 

and over again, then lose it in the vicinity 

of the heat that surrounds us where we 

sleep. One two three a blast in the chest 

a gasp, a breath, the beat has returned.

Reviews

[An owl on the moon]

This poetry carries such a strong rhythm that errupts with depth and vision. Indeed life hangs always in the balance... and it can slip from our fingers within moments... This is the edge we walk on.