Excerpt from "Pavement"
Nathan Moore and Dana Guthrie Martin

The weary day begins. Before our feet
slap the floor we're disappointed.

Vines sprout from a million windows.
Through the door we see a forest.

The trembling moth draws
your portrait in the air.

We don't believe in luck so we roam
the hallways and kick the walls.

We stayed in the dirt, hid under tables,
kept our mouths shut.

Our hooks are strung. We
fish for meaning.

Everywhere it's our turn to pay.
We toss coins on the tallest fortunes.

If not us,
then who can we afford?

1996 © 2009