Tiny black flyer,
we'll call him 'Gnat',
leaves the leaves
his decaying heaven beside the stream
to hang with me.
to hang in the air
right between my eyes
Only distinguishable from the
dangling shadowy spiders and small
deep black spots in my eyeballs
by the independent motion.
(You have independent motion,
you may go...)
Maybe it's the glasses;
I don't need them to walk, but, you know,
The glorious beauty of the entire world is never enough.
One must check their phone occasionally.
So, walking and shooing, shoeing and swatting
Until annoyance mothers intention;
Stop, observe, and smash.
The tiny corpse in the palm confirms the kill.
until
10s of yards later, there is another.
Right between the eyes.
We go through a similar tragic drama.
10s of yards down the path,
there's another.
At this point I think what if it's the same
Gnat reborn, again and again, saying
"what was that all about?"
Maybe it's an old friend
who took a bad turn on the wheel of karma
what is the important message they are spending lifetimes trying to get across to me?
well, maybe there is no message. maybe it's just
the pure animal attraction.
Relationships remain a mystery to me.
Category: poetry
pesky blasphemers
Change Time Things So inevitable and constant and also plentiful to the point that by the time you make that last remark there's so much more you couldn't possibly have, you know, known. So, pernaps not even invoke their names? er, um, kind of a policy, you know.
the afternoon before the evening of
Heavenly Blue Peak Shrouded in smoke and ashes May flavor return
r.i.p Noah Shull
so, I said to my cat, (instead), no I’m not mad at you; yes, you can live here, that’s just fine; you stay with me, you and all the spirits. Maybe I could have said that to Noah Maybe I could have said that to Pete Maybe they would have been too much for me to handle, let alone help; but what good am I if not the last refuge of the lost musicians who kept washing up on my sure If not the one who brings the bad trippers out and down Pete, Noah, Chris… well, I did harbor Pearcy for some time, years ago. But, then I didn't. Why couldn’t I take them all in, and work the magic write the magic words on the magic almonds that transfer the people’s disease into me and then I just shake it off, like I do. See me shaking? yeah, it will be over soon. Shaking it right off. So I had a rough decade or so after allegedly saving that last tripping stranger’s life. I’m sure it was just a coincidence. probably. Maybe I did, just now, say it to all of them, all the spirits in or around the cat. The cat is trying to speak for all, he says. Is that what he said? I keep getting it all wrong. All right. Alright. Oh, Glory. Glory, Glory. All Glory, all the Time time, time