watched from
the inside out
reckoned by
algorithms
measured and
sorted by number
not in a novel
in a building
in an instant
for instance you
are falling in
love and your ads
are showing it
there’s dope
in your feed
and your plastic
feels hot
two hundred thousand
hours spent meditating
and nothing’s happening
standing outside
when streetlights
turn on, it was
beautiful all
along outside,
where i could
have had a day –
maybe died –
and yet if fate
is a real thing,
there are moments
where you are
invincible where-
ever you breathe
the doe
startles off
to the sanctuary
of an old february
and the sorceress
unshuffles her card deck
with a soft ploink
the sun drops
into the river like a water droplet
without so much
as a sizzle
the village need never know
the shaman takes in
the sacred flower
even on thursdays
the sphinx has forgotten
the answer to its riddle
now it eats when hungry
instead of by some code
the reverberating moon
rewinds its purebeams
and sends them down
again and forever, in the fey
an unfortunate
defect in angels
is apocalypse
fantasies: raptures
and the final war
wound up
in the present
tense – following my air –
with all this awareness my brain
can watch
my breath
my molecules – all mine – until
a fresh, wet present tense
murders the last
then dies
beneath
the fresh, wet grasp
of a new present tense –
when i try to control my breath
i tense
my brain
wound up as if i were a watch
then, without awareness,
my body breathes
for me
If I live until
2089, then
I’ll turn 100
.
In a century
We’ll all be one century
Old. Not much longer
.
If I live until
2089, fly
Magicicadas
the saddest harp
to stop sounding
“does it sound sad?”
…
silent, and still
inanimate
hollow. dead. wood.
…
when no one plays
sound fills the air
(the sound of air)
…
moving always
all things moving
in measured time
In the blinding eye
Of each asterikyklone
Stares the pupil:
A bindu not as small as “just”
For it has a complex gist
Instead a new navel
(New a long while, too)
With appropriate umbilicals
Winding behind one
You see the aperture
Of every eye appears
To hold a black hole
Yet beyond these lenses
Brilliant velds forever
two souls
at the graveyard
do not see each other,
accidentally collide, and
combine
⨀ 