Loop

Tie on my trainers, seize impetus now,
straining and stretching, I pull and I prime
each muscle's slumbering sinew taut, then
Hustle downstairs to the shimmering street.

A bustle - a jostle, away! I weave
round the oblivious, walking their way...
But I run, I loop, cocooned, iPodded
and feel the burn from the blistering beat.

Inclining my ear, I run on synclines,
Matching my feet to the drum's conscious stream.
Faces and forms shift past like the sweat which
In rivulets forms: flow down past my feet.

In loops of loud passion, of panting and
pacing, the mind empties thought out like spit,
spat from horn-mouthpieces onto sawdust...
Doubt's dilemmas gone: the circle's complete.

SiKee '08