Out The Door Poem by Koroosh Floyd

Incognito the word fade into depths of field, regardless of trusty telephoto lenses.

Among familiar and newbie faces, walking amongst divine atmosphere that can change

routine heart beats a beat faster. Welcoming the stoning of routines, the double edge sword that

make the head tilt. Straighten heads can vacant cluttered information, toasting with drinks in hand

conceptions of sweet old fashioned openness. Openness unlocking the doors of inconsistencies, refurbishing

consistence once again.



The eyes can visualize concepts greater than one time or another conceived once upon a time.

The pen starts to break into sweat from overwork; yet white flags are not present, nor will they

be. The tricky three acts can go from circular to linear narratives without warning. Let it fall into place...