I had something then I lost it
A whole district of Christmas windows
Every street at every sunset
We line up reality after reality while this one warms over
Fury, forgetfulness, forgiveness
Fathoms are what they’re calling for
And winged horses
And well-intentioned warlords
So much dirt to trample
So many messages to send
The meek and the miserly will dance among the ashes
It’s your wedding day
Put one word in front of the other
As boats, like boars, if broken
Long forgotten mathematical paradox, I know you
Herds of suburban deer
Unseasonable warmth
Hold and release
Catch and release
Consider and release
And release
Weigh the sugar, the caffeine, the intangibles
Every landspeed record is a thing at the horizon
Or compound eyes all the better for seeing your compound fractures
Peanut brittle, marshmallow, snowballs — all the seasons
Back and forth a week at a time then two
Back and forth and then interrupted
Back and forth and strike out, sunrises
Then setbacks and shutdowns and somewhere softens.
I have shoulders and I have moments.
An angle, a scope, line of sight, and lower lows.
I have a ditch-bound snowmobile.
I have points on my license.
I have more than any of us deserve.
Lower lower lows.
I have dreams and more sunrises
More bad choices and brush it off.
Get better.
Most things are invisible, but we don’t know how that works
And there are many things, but not as many, that you just can’t see because they are rushing away from you so fast
Remember every ambulance that’s passed you as it passed you
And now I can really hear what you were saying as you climbed that last mountain and it’s the saddest thing I’ve seen in a long time and I’m still angry, too, even if it isn’t fair
I was not a reporter during the Civil War
I was not witness to the March on Washington
I’ve never met a Supreme Court justice
Fast is getting faster while the fastest stays put
There’s a war in Ukraine and I’m writing a poem
Which isn’t the dumbest thing to ever happen
But something more of less
It’s past 3:30am, my head hurts, and I can’t sleep,
But I slept a few hours earlier when I was down on the couch after a bunch of crabs and a couple Maryland Mules and a touch of Whistle Pig
The rest of it melted down the ice in the glass by the time I woke up
This is stupid and going nowhere
This world is stupid and going nowhere in this stupid little right now with my head hurting and not sleeping and now 3:44am, but that’s gonna happen
Tomorrow my head won’t hurt anymore and I’ll get in a good run and the weather is changing and the world will be going somewhere
Some good some bad some terrible some worse some amazing
Tomorrow will happen
It’s 3:49am and one of our dogs isn’t feeling well — she makes the funniest noises all the time, too — groans mostly
Then there are vape dojos and break rooms and home theater systems and fossil fuels and unfortunately still a war in Ukraine
What to do with all the math that builds up everywhere?
What to do with the time between lunch and dinner?
How to be on my phone less? but the double- triple-bind that this is where I do all my writing and a good deal of reading, too
It’s 3:53am and one of our cat’s is sick, too, this is the best night-morning!
How do I waste less time? and no I’m not talking about leisure
How do I beat myself up less and support myself more?
Which is also, who am I? What the hell am I doing? What am I here for?
What am I here for?
What am I here for?
What am I hear for?
The past couple years has been a real the world doesn’t need me anymore vs. some people need me vs. the world never needed me tilt-a-whirl
Late capitalism is a motherfucker, is what I’m saying
And also, that I blame John Hughes for a whole lot, too
But I did enjoy smoking at times — that’s another morherfucker — but I came to understand I didn’t enjoy it a whole lot more and things just happened
Catherine died of breast cancer
I’m getting older
I’m getting less distracted in some ways and more distracted in others
My Aunt Carol died of lung cancer, my mom has COPD
But I miss sitting around a fire outside having a cigarette and a drink
And tipping needs to go away, too
Like water into a packing boat, drunk?
A drain, a relationship to the equator, pulling back on the yoke and pushing past the clouds
No thunderheads
Maybe sleep soon
What teeters what tolls.
Again where or how again how.
The best bulletproof vest ever worn,
The week’s prize-winning cow,
The first officiant after the worst outcome,
They are all asking questions by just standing.
Do what do will, we are accelerating to the end.
Going now vs. getting there,
Are we are when and still leaning.
Burning wheels, burning houses, burning bridges,
Burnings buildings in burning cities.
It’s all on the radio and now it’s all on you.
Yes, you signed up for everything you buried,
Let’s trace every step like it’ll matter someday.
More of one thing
Weather conditions
Allergies again
Stories recombine, too
Upright, recline, decline
The best intentions
Animal companions
All the traditions
We take our medicines
All the programs out
Still we mean every word
Circles are one way
Several are surrounded
We ask for more
Sometimes again just ain’t a problem.
This isn’t sundries or breathing.
This isn’t expectations or obligations.
But it’s still belonging of a sort.
Drumbeats are important.
All the weathers have their place.
Both time and space can find themselves in the ingredients far before the 50s.
Fire and wheels and wheels on fire.
I mean, circus tricks, sleight of hand, misdirection.
Spring flowers or Spring, just ten more minutes.
Days, hopes, recombinations, dreams.
That which is which which will be again and again.
Closing hours closed and late nights are yours.
Early mornings, yours and blued light through blinds.
Hoof-torn sideyards not sidearms.
Not please. Not excuse me.
Daily needs vs. wants hopes dreams.
As in what you need, before.
Like backseat, windows down.
Like the forest pressing in on the sound
And it’s all passing by.
Here’s where the air tastes like morning light well into the night.
The crickets you think you hear and more.
False starts, no matter.
False floors.
Like we’re waiting till nobody comes.
All the best unfinished meals in this life
Sleeping later, or at least not getting up so soon
That cats walking along fences used to be a thing
The phases of the moon tattooed just anywhere
A decade or more with this favorite tshirt, this belt with koi fish, this Helly
And before that other favorite t-shirts, the once-was power belt, the baseball hat I lost in Philly
How you feel about days that are both bright and cold
Carriage houses until I’ve lost count
Too many hours on the road from here to there
Piles, stacks, closets, curries
But typefaces
But suffering
But shadows?
Envy but envy
Selves and selves but selves as well
Books on a shelf like books on my mind
Yes endings, but ending
Folding paper in half and again and counting
Distances, too, like energy and its opposite
But too much of every good thing
But not enough
But so many sundries, a dream
Look to this tree: soil ans water, air and sunlight, sure
But so much more we don’t see
Everything a network, this life
The days around us
The water, ounce after ounce
The temperature and the memories of the same temperature at different times and the memory of different temperatures at different times, too
How arbitrary hours are and paragraphs
Shifts in perspective from one moment to the next — our eyes can be extraordinary when they want to be
And things being born and other things dying
Clouds of midges cuz here comes Spring
It’s not if you fall, because you will.
It’s how you get back up, because you will.
HMS HHMS HMSS I love you
Several again screwed in my brain somewhere somewhere screwed
But rep as reps as represents
That fancy fancy snake will shimmer in the sunlight soon as the sun’s a thing
And everything shakes its slumber someday
Sidewinding, side-stepping, side-on-side, shibboleth
Until it’s all shaking you, of course; it’s what’s obvious because it’s what’s real before and after
Everything again, every word again, again again, again
Here comes again, we hope again, again again, again
My eyes aren’t burning, your eyes are burning, again again, again
So let there be motes and let there be pinwheels
Be they starlings or staring, be they right on red or unsignaled U-turns
Shock shock intervals shock shock some more
A maze, a mezze, a middlespace, in retrospect a war
The place
As in the sound and the color of it
The sight of it all vs. the names of things
The precious plenty battle and the Sun somethings on
Several stations cut from several cloths
So many pieces all around as many ways
As many sons and as many daughters
As days and nights
As seasons
As regrets
The nights are getting shorter but we still need so much more rest
We wrap the body
We name the night
We carry all of our things with us, every one sparkling
