Late August advances to a close

The heat-warped avenues of the summer mind

Find their way to calm

After working, racing, chasing

So hard, so fast, so focused

That your soul is burnt, and dirty

And what was the hot, humid air of August

What was pure in the deep blue twilight

What felt like the saturation of your existence

With a weight like a meaning

Drove you mad to exhaustion

Dancing on the new city rooftops

Like a lost angel

And collapsing in a heap

When the spirit left you

Sensing the walls at your rim

Let some other angel take a sip

Forcing your eyes to close

There is no skyhook in the deepest of your listless reaches


Your tangy thoughts, your sharp nerves

They turn to stone now rest

In your farthest of places from an angular world