Excerpt: Reprimanded before spirits fly during the oblivion of after midnight

School has shot my muse. But, Northography helps me console him. Here is an excerpt from my latest post:

the malignant acrimony
of a world without light
is like a winter without words
that comes and goes
ebbs, flows
under the trestle
of cirrus wisps
kissed holding the sun

tell me to leave
tell me to run somewhere
old God
graybeard is
the wrong side of the road
tossing up tires mixed
in with night
too swiftly
sifted