Finding Out

Finding Out a trial of confusion ends up in broken bits a blank unfolding mystery when I think like this not as an image or vacuum to inhale I'm holding in my mind a revision never finished notebooks slapping shut doors banging open a flood of steps out and down a street of ignorance cold hard immune and then what do you think my angels shook their heads I began to smoke and drink "deliver us" they said instead I found oblivion limited and weak there's passion in the wanting not finding is the link wander through this open mess with me until we sleep floating helpless gone beyond the moments that we keep