September 8, 2021
The angels set the instrument to measure
the precise and total mood of every individual,
and then class and categorize
all our plans at that moment,
infer every entelechy,
then triage:
so the largest number flourishes
with the least amount of tragedy.
It’s a thing everyone will look at once,
Or want to.
Everyone’s planning around everyone else’s plans to take a look.
September 7, 2021
There’s so many of them
Buoyant promises
Whirling
Rushing through
September 4, 2021
Critters leap and gnaw at my heels from the sun dried campsite grass, as something illuminates the night sky, highlighting the night clouds that pass like floating mountains.
August 31, 2021
The drain flies, their unrepentant trysts… Their bleached eyes, planets of grotesquely tessellated mirrors gone opaque then black inset, along with them, their uric phantasms, once simple and picturesque
Those daffodils diffracted, linger, while summer tries to cop a feel – venal limpland in the tile, the tibia trees crawling with brack – its favoring of first abrasions and the cautious, persistent mew of decomposition sparking in the pregnable cathode
Surveying,