Little red corvette
cruises past a purple wood...

.
expectation waits...

...

A soiled placard blows
across a nuclear wasteland...

He explodes from blocks,
Leaving the field in his wake...

...
...Stillness...

Things that
are...

The landscape lay cracked and parched,
Heat still lays beneath the dust, but...

When blackbird sings a song for him
from snowy perch all crisp and trim...

Heaven sent (script)
Two minutes to reach this precise...

Ants crawl over fretting
newts that writhe and twist like...

*Authors note: like a pendulum, this poem should...
from the twelfth strike to the first and then back...