CEILINGS are for the to
dance
as quickly
—and stars
they
as
of midnight vehicles
come.
gone .
.
who
sleepless killers
for
in
beams
their giants across,
.
count
speckled paint and straining
plaster.
And for
up
ceilings are the cloudless skies of nurseries
dreaming young to paint
his chair,
my
while
on.
himself
beside
meditation,
i
to the floor,
stretch
my
their hearts
friend
clutches
with
with spine
eyes scratching
the boundless fields above like
an insane
psalmist
without
a tomorrow. doug knowlton
10