All the Rules

A rule of
humble people
crouching at the
point where their
shoulders meet their
long curving blades.

A rule of
people who breathe
in roaring epiphanies
for breakfast,
coaxing stranded ledgers
from the tips of
mountain cliffs growing
tall behind their ears.

A rule of
quality presiding
sparcely in a
long forgotten tube
rolling under a nondescript
piece of graffiti.

a rule of
thumbs, measuring
all different lengths
pointing all different ways,
freely breaking
to shatter their molds.

A rule that isn't,
lives behind the forgotten
smile of a care
that once cured mortality.

And today, on this
destined day,
I will find it waiting
in my hair
following me everywhere
I happen to go.