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.

 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. 

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.

It’s all in her eyes;

those blazing, wild eyes,
unbridled, impulsive,
seeing ten steps ahead
of her actions,
perpetual zap
through an endless
tunnel of thrill;

shearing through days,
no looking back,
unstoppable as a
rampaging herd;

with the charismatic force
of unimagined ecstasy,
that blurs
better judgement,

as she careens
in all directions
towards  the consequences
of the damned.