Anything is an accident of everything.
Accidents of deceit,
accidents of forgotten lies,
incidental aftereffects of
woebegone vacations that
never completely ended,
neutral vibrations of
moneyed investments evolved
quietly into
troubled financial incontinence,
northern songs and
hoary arias
auctioned at slaughter whence
no one denied conspiracies to
route opera houses
colonized in
mistakenly brewed equities.
Accidents of sex and
wads of ancient gum that
stuck to the roofs of your eyes,
forcing you to peer into
unexpected insanity,
letting it kiss you deeper than
shovels of God and gore.
Acts of kindness,
flashes of indigent inspiration,
drainages of municipal sinuses into
abandoned social clubs
snapped out of limbo by
random confluences of
hocus-pocus lookalikes.
