Tiny images of vast emptiness(es)

Obsessively compulsively spinning in doomed circles

Thoughts wander without purpose nor focus

If it is a leisurely life sought

prepare for hard work ahead



Barters for coffee

Punishment for tea

It's good to live inland

For fear of the sea



Looking upwards to a pinprick of light

Waiting waiting for events foretold

By passing gypsies and assorted pickpockets

Concurrent wearing and aging and dying too

A depression as wide as deep

Just too much anxiety over

Desperation emanating from every pore

Frozen with promise of human rites

Which are human wrongs consequently

I used to attract moths

Shushing roomfuls of characters

Snapping necks of barking dogs

Chaos quelled like a deity

To simplify

Reducing things to fundamental elements

But – as with all things human – where

Are lines drawn?

Who minds the limits

Who minds boundaries



Endless analyses and questioning

Antithesis of simplicity and

Complication’s very bestest pal – collaborators



Much more organic than synthesized

The two over the one

Water dripping onto black holes

And kicking at clouds



Batteries on last legs

Despite myths of desperate

Last ditch surges

Simplicity of the end of conservation

To be among the family again

The comfort in knowledge of affinity

So eager the tears – welling

My only mistakes are in timing as always

But the wonderment is worth the waiting

Subtle like eyebrows feet or thighs



Panache spilling over authentic

Able to be only myself without act

Sadness temporarily interrupted by life real

Interrupted by the time moving forward

Awakening mid afternoon in time for teas

Open except inside my secured fortress



The kids today…

Will they know what I know ever?

What I will never know?

Is recapitulation and endless loop of

Stills wound fast – a horse in full gallop?



The edge of caffeine-induced vomit

In a former grand ballroom painted

With cheap green and furnished

With thrift store furniture



Middlespace is a half-eaten carrot cake

For instance or the doubts of matter



Again my time is expiring here

The meter running out – alarms sounding

And the sadness will return (sigh)



Accept

Or

Stop

Another day without harm

About as big as your finger

Bleeding in and out of lucid beliefs

All the while feeling superiorly unimportant



Pathetically desperate for validation

And drowning in the ooze

Of the taste for human meats

A thing for the soft tissues and large muscles



After some coffee and some time alone

And the customary dredge for muck

A deep dank still sleep with the

Promise for rebirth awaiting



Being so full so quickly after

Being so empty so long after

Neither caring nor wanting

Is generally - and surprisingly - shocking to the system



An acceptance of selves satisfied

With sins and baggage forgiven

Peace and relief are identical twins

Joined at palms with hearts beating in unison



And there is still reason to live

Random ovals

[Previously Untitled]

Again with the thoughts
Haven’t you learned anything?
Seeping faux genius

Wandering focus
Internal conversations
Over Iowa

Of love and passion
Mean spirited interplay
Narrow shallow lives and lies

Wrong turns at junctions
Continuous debriefings
When is enough enough?

Volcanoes in clouds
Retirement is never safe
The pace is deadly

To finish my thoughts
Over the mid-western plains
Free beer and pretzels

Heightened senses of awareness

Paranoia mediated by instincts



The depths are still frightening

Drill-down to situations not of our control

Or, maybe it's really getting scarier yet, the world



Or maybe experience teaches

Circumstances change perspectives

Evolution occurs regardless



Imagination, being what it is, has

Powerful effects on perceptions

And vice versa



The nature of things

You know, stuff, you know



Clarity is a motherfucker

Befuddling is likewise



Sharp pointy things

Running amok



Distillation is key

Simpler elemental thinking

"The California protagonist belongs to no establishment, a born renegade fond of mocking the shabby masquerades (of traffic courts and dictionaries and jails) with which the corrupt officials in city hall or Chinatown seek to imprison the noble savage dreamed of in the philosophy of Jean-Jacques Rousseau."



- Lewis H. Lapham