If You Can Say What

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

To More or Less

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

What Can a Week

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

This is the kind of shit I type into notes in the middle of the night because I’m well on my way to becoming a sappy old man.

It’s not if you fall, because you will.

It’s how you get back up, because you will.

Horizontal Hold, Broken

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