
Nailing names to things, They fossilize Into the lie of certainty.

Nailing names to things, They fossilize Into the lie of certainty.

I am in an empty space With a green screen behind me. I think that everything that I do is categorized, And that would feel like an imposition, Except that the categories keep changing. I ‘m swallowed in a constant state of flux, Without reference points. Besides, The batteries on the $10,000 boat I cannot afford Need a charge, and I don’t know how to get that done. It's one of my incapabilities. I’ve not been sleeping well Nor have I been able To wake up well. I keep arguing with myself which may be the cause. I cannot catch a break and have too many secrets to remember. My lost attention may be in one of my pockets, but all of them are empty. I continue to look for holes. The mending is endless. There’s no one I know who can help me. Though we share English, No one seems to speak my language, And I wonder if I could be Wittgenstein’s lion, Disguised as a human. Maybe we all are. I see people walking outdoors. One minute it is sunny The next it is nightfall - Their movement either slo mo or fast mo, going nowhere at variable speeds. I don’t want to be disingenuous, But I can’t help myself being adrift. Adrift without faith, yet spiritually unbound. I take heart in entropy, Maybe we all do As a necessity for Keeping us alive.

Around 4:00 AM
With some small urgency
Nature calls,
So I get out of bed,
Thinking that time
Is deteriorating
Slowly.
Oh so slowly, that
It’ll take a billion years
For time to be
Completely wasted.
Obliterated,
Gone forever,
No longer existing.
But how,
I cannot imagine.
With my business finished
I make my way
In the dark
Back to bed,
Not knowing
How time deteriorates,
Except
with every single death,
Or worse,
In a life
Of wasted time.












I started with a beer,
then made a list of what
I was gonna do.
I made a call
to someone wounded
by the guy who
I replaced,
and made good
with kind words.
The guy I replaced had begun
by making himself a beard
with various kinds of tape:
Scotch tape, masking tape, duct tape,
electrical tape, packing tape, surgical tape,
gaffers tape, painters tape, insulation tape,
recording tape with a sticky bottom.
I was amazed.
Then the guy I replaced
went to town
and began to tear down
all that he could,
one tantrum at a time.

To make something perfect with precision and care; To be someone perfect integrating flaws in such that they have value, rather than being impediments; To be part of something vital and grand, with contributions of intelligence and expertise. This is what it is - to fit into the grand design of this universe, our human tribe; this aspiration towards unity, performed with grace and humility is what may be our greatest hope.
















Topsy turvy triumph,
get-up-and-go
giggles
in the upside down.

He strode through the spearmint night
with his dog keeping faithful pace;
brow-beating moments dissolve
in the stillness of absence.
No meter of fear.
No qualities.
No descent down the status ladder.
No wounds or throbbing history.
Just the night,
the dog and him,
wondering together,
those brilliant stars
of impartial moments
within.