the grit dawn

friends with large purses “make a risk worthwhile”
if only one’s soul is without faith –
faith in oneself, a hurdled sanctification,
like stars upon a broomstick and electricity,
now onlod and starving representatives try,
too far from the darling of grass to approach
(and appraise), the needles crow into the last
par-style and par-steps going into the grit dawn
and if faith holds I will no longer exist