…which is to say that if I stop believing I exist I will, in fact, cease to exist—or else my cat is the reason I exist, in which case, I’m doomed.
Eventually, you find the frozen plums in the icebox.
More poems need to be written and others need revised, but I’m feeling pretty fantastic about seeing my writing evolve.
cuz he walked around everywhere with a thumz up
The wide sweep of planets that beguile me
Do you want to see me type pages of acrobats,
Leak leagues of sea toxins into a light beam?
Shook off the alarm clock shock and walked with zombies on the mall promenade until the oblong paradox unlocked itself and
But there it’s been sunk in my gut
you should know this if you’ve ever truly kissed
Who in their right mind would acquire 2 overhead projectors, anyway?
the Spring grit / of road grime / salt and care / lessness crumb / ling
from a simple foundation unfurled a universe
a context of wet sands
nobody knows till it shows (so says Schroe)
the broken and the menders
the fates have spoken / so that’s all
you try not looking despite your curiosity
try to otherwise
until you make up your mind / to learn to fly
What hierarchy / suggests / your impending / fruitions?
because all people everywhere / know that knowing causes / the greatest sorrow
to me you are / dark sky moon / you are too bright to fully consume / oh you pull at me / through & thru
It’s just a matter / of how many layers / of “me” you release
what good / is the awe / of stars / if we see / only that / we are / worlds apart?
Sick / Sick / Sick / Sick / Sick