Getting to There

Crowded street
Its Alphabet of echoes
illiterate thoughts

since I require
a soundless sunset
alcohol will do.

Drinking's always
the choreographed
cornered escape.

A gift wrapped
in questions
unanswered

sought by the
nomad seeking
boundaries or

reminders of
the leisure
that isn't

anything but
a gamble
even as it blurs

the present into
a miraculous sidestep
needing no music

only the fine
trapdoors that
are already
there.