logical

you lay alone at night and tell yourself you’ve made the right choices,
you don’t lie and you don’t speak truth,
these gaps in reason into which are crammed a busload of the greatest mysteries,
your history doesn’t point in one direction but many,
and that’s when you realize that you can’t escape it anymore,
there is nothing above and nothing below and there is only you and the people to your
right and left, left and right, in front and behind, and around and around your
head is spinning like a 45rpm record, because things like this just don’t
happen in the world that you’ve set up for yourself and you’re still thinking about your
choices and why didn’t you and why you did and that was
bad but then again, then again then, at the time, you’re still going now and
that’s enough isn’t it, you lay alone at night and at least you’re still around, there are
those who aren’t, those who fell along the way into, into what, into something,
into nothingness, non-existence, and existence always beats nothingness
doesn’t it, so you lay alone at night, head spinning like a 45rpm record,
god dying in your brain, the devil frying nothing but hamburgers down there
at the fast food chain because he failed his classes in high school, where he beat you
up every day of the week and on the weekends you never have enough
time to make yourself who you really want to be, you’re still growing now and
that’s enough isn’t it, you don’t believe anymore as you lay alone at night
and tell yourself a million things, but maybe you will again tomorrow.

of all people,

her.
yes, her.
she who has never
even
chopped down a mountain
with her bare hand.
she who still uses
a hairbrush
when she needs to comb her hair.
yes, that one: her.
hasn’t even taught a troll
the lessons of love. hasn’t even
gone ice skating with the eskimoes.
not a goddess, not even
the daughter of one.
not even greek.
even so.
nobody else at all:
of all people, her.

Comprehensions

Slipped into sidestream,
seeing larger like photograph but
unable to navigate away and
back to source. Floating outward,
feeling smaller, more
detailed. Words being boats
in moats of daily living, drifting
in and out of mouths. Sounds
are steering, clearing pathways
toward understanding, landing
in ears fit to accept them. Pesky
sentences incomprehensible,
denied. Simple life made longer
by modern medicine when
all is getting brighter. Dark lines
disappearing, colors melting into
blankness. Giving solace.
Grieving, playing, relaxing.
Taste of many, mostly same
again, again. Tasting sour,
unclean, inedible. Smelling
simple, green, single cells.
Forward moving, thinking,
feeling. Connections to
the greater, one and many.
Networks, breathing, sleeping,
birthing, dying. Making
love. Making connections.
Being fruitful. Fruitful
fruitflies feeling fixated.
One another. Another one.
Same yet different, longing
for, lasting. Looking back.
Forward at beginning,
backward at end. Hopeful
and then wistful. Love
after lunch. Will miss him.
Looking back now, being
wistful. He was and is.
See him soon. See him
happy.

weeds

weeds are growing in this garden.
someone to turn on the showers,
someone to pull out the gold:
the camps are ever, the jobs are full.

weeds are growing in this garden.
someone to give the orders,
someone to take them and carry them out:
names are pointless, faces changing.

weeds are growing in this garden.
someone to turn their head away,
someone to shut their door:
seeds may be sown, but weeds will be grown.

falling out of

the end of your arms is such
a lonely place to be. and i
have friends, we keep in touch.
i can’t even seem to forget
a time when i wasn’t in love
with your face or your soft and slimy
and blood-filled heart. and the last time
i felt
anything
i was in your arms in the dark
or in the womb
in a million half-lived lives
where i didn’t
love you,
and in each and every one
i turned out
just fine.

luck

lady luck is looking down upon us,
but unluckily we are not looking up.

i'm going

i'm going to learn to drive a motorcycle,
and i'll ride away with you into that bright orange orb
on the horizon. i'm going to learn to fly a plane,
and i'll be seeing you up there in the sandpaper
sky. i'm going to learn to breathe underwater, and i'll
meet you by the lobster traps.

i'll be a lion tamer. i'll be a stand-up comedian.
i'll be the conductor of the new york philharmonic.

you'll be the percussion section. you'll be the
ventriloquist's doll in my act. you'll be the biggest pussy
i've ever seen.

or if you want,
i'll be an atom and you can be the sun.
i'll be a neutron and you can be a supernova.

i'll move at the speed of light, and you can move
at the speed of sound, and we may not be going
in the same direction but we'll almost certainly
end up at the same place.