Hitting the street the soles of the feet
pick apart the sweet spots of dry cement
between the after rain. Swoops and dekes
make jealous birds. Crossing the firmament
with speed and precision and "on a dime"
agility they wished they could muster from,
by comparison, clumsy wing beats. A sin
wave heart beat keeps pumping, low strung
clean and efficient and like fingers turning
the pages of a collaborative novel the scene
skips right along in stride. Time's burning
passes unnoticed and breaths turn to dreams
of days not yet here and the drumming steps
kept in four four become super fluid molecules
in a vacuum chamber. Velocity and mass cleft
into meaningless bits of math and broken rules
and the runner tunes like no thing seen before
on Earth or streaked across Heaven's open face.
A machine joined to a conscious and infinite core
who's only purpose is to cruise time and space.
