For one echoing moment
the 10,000 tools of confusion
were suspended from their din
and the great hammer of certainty
pounded red hot metal
into the form of a beating heart
so many open minds fortuitously coagulating
meanwhile who manages our finances
as we yell love to stretch lungs and thought
pulmonarily exercising our prerogative
to breathe outward our own uniqueness
finances, furnaces, free markets,
free radicals. turnstile to sort us,
one from the other, weed against flower,
the bloom or the plague.
Our brains tell us yes
but running leaves us with bleeding soles
and futile postcards