TERMS

The wider

your gaze, the more 

it becomes clear 

that the universe behaves 

like a simple equation 

in which the terms 

on either side are mirror

images of each other. 

Perhaps this is why 

you and I can exist 

on opposite sides 

of a sagital plane, 

yet still dream 

the same dreams;

still laugh 

at the same memes;

still remain, at all times, 

so perfectly in sync. 

Because ours, 

like all systems,

is a complex operation—

a galactic 

combination-factory-

floor-and-call-center. 

Or wait—now, 

it's a starved dog 

jonesing for bones, 

excitedly pulling 

in all directions at once.

Which, of course, 

is another way of saying 

going nowhere. 

INTERMISSION

While you just sit 

and listen 

in the sixty-

second eye of the storm 

known as noon, 

the last desperate chime 

of church bells—

keening, 

then dissolving 

in the ambient mist 

reminds you of 

(or perhaps 

replaces?) 

the weight 

of your grief and dis-

consolation. 

For to whom 

on this earth 

does a silent moment

answer? 

Though you're perfectly still, 

some part of you 

dances.

AHA MOMENT

Under the shade 

of the hackberry tree—

new leaves, light 

as ideas themselves, 

(and just as elemental)

are proffered down 

in patterned inches,

second after second:

perhaps existence 

is not a given thing.

After all, the heart 

must be 

gradually grown; 

even the soul, 

then, might be

eventual. 

DOGGY

Great, great 

grand descendant 

of the noblest race 

of beasts—

you who deigned 

to live at our feet, 

but who never ate

of that fruit—

your soul 

is pristine, so 

how can it be 

that you too

are doomed to 

one day die?

HEALTHY BOUNDARIES

Next time you feel 

lonely, or

a bit unsure 

of how things fit 

together, 

remember:

your body is,

at all times,

precision-filled—

in fact, it's 

practically packed 

to the gills—

with miraculous 

acids and 

everlasting bases—

both of which 

are necessary—

in exactly 

equal measure—

and both of which 

are so movingly 

and desperate-

ly dependent 

upon one another

being there,

but also—always 

keeping clear.

IT'S LIKE THIS

Feelings 

can only be said 

to exist 

in relation 

(by comparison, 

that is) to one another. 

Therefore 

we must know, 

deep down, 

what bliss is—

since 

we cannot possibly be alone 

with this. 

*

Clipped phases 

seem to wander the brain 

like children 

in a dark forest. 

Even conjunctions—

those erstwhile 

breadcrumbs—

will not successfully join 

or contrast them. 

All paths to understanding 

overgrow 

and are erased. 

Only periodically 

now do they leave their cave 

and wander in circles, 

lost.

*

Every time I feel 

a disturbance, 

I might split 

and wind up in two places, 

retaining the former 

memory of both. 

Strangers in the hereafter? 

Perhaps—but 

accomplices, 

more so. 

GENTRIFICATION

As I burn through my days, 

I think a lot 

of all the bodies 

this weathered old soul 

must have tarried

through by now—but 

(probably due 

to the tyranny 

of memory) 

somehow not 

often enough 

of the opposite: 

what battle-scarred hoards, 

all strange 

and complex, 

have tossed their lots 

in with this 

broom closet body, 

seizing it, 

razing it, 

building it up—

then selling it off 

at a loss 

or a profit?