Category Archives: #philosophy


Scrying her nine million microscopes,
Mind drunk on laniakoscopy, she
Plucks with lust a loom of golden leylines
Harplike to focus the nlimnite crystal
At her one Gargantua Particle

Bestowed on the angels each, like their gnames,
The Particle: a corpuscle of God:
She enstashed that hraw monad in her mind
Working an eviternity till now
To coeurprehend its weird architecture

Crystal, keys, chi-glyphs each in syzygy –
Sophia wrings a splash of ylem from an
Ygg tree growing in her laboratory –
Crazy apples cooling on the timepane:
A wicker basket of black holes for snacks

The sounds of Yes om slow and molten from
Her intricate instruments – unichords –
For now is the wowly kairos! she sings
And tipping accidentally, her cup
Dispills its psychedelicacies. “O!”

Dripsy daisy the liquid seeps in deep
Drench-and-drowning her only particle
Oiling over those glittering leylines
With the quality of oh no. The Oo
Eximploded and Sophia with it

Oh, What I Would Let You Do to My Journal.

I want my words
in bed
with your rods and cones.

I’m a young gun,
but I can rhyme some sounds
and I am down to go down on
some extended metaphor.

I want you
to open wide
your eyes
and I’ll do mine
and we’ll read each other
and scream things.

I want discursivity
and your fluidity
and your phenomenology
and ontology
on top of me.

Let’s talk.

Let’s have a
about your form,
‘cause it piques me, honey bee.

Get me off
this screen.
I’d love to be
between your sheets,
wet with ink.

Let’s alliterate a lot
and let lyrics lick little
liminal spaces lightly.

Let’s write each other letters and seal them with kisses then tear off the envelopes with the hunger of younger lovers.

Let’s let go.

Logical Truths

Paradox of Material Implication

If I were to love you then you’d love me. Or is it the other way around?


If only I loved you.
If only you loved me.
If you loved me, I’d love you.
You’ll love me only if I love you.

Excluded Middle

What if it were not the case that I either love you or don’t?
Of course, I love you.
I either do or don’t.
Now a contradiction: for how could it be – while not being the case –
that I either love you or I don’t love you? It couldn’t.
I either love you, or I don’t.

The Omphalopticon

Moved by the rain
As if I were a contained rain
I must alchemize this water
Into words, what are some
Good smell words, I wonder

You are
The universe
Writing a poem to
Itself, about itself (it’s for

Moved by the fall
As if they were each
Little autumns, they must
Tell and tell, with words – with poems
All the writers (before their winters)

You are
The thunderstorm
Writing a poem now
About the rain – what else would you
Write of?

Moved by the slightest stupid
Breeze, the poets go zooming
From the beehive to write
Sonnets on the sweetness of honey
Each bee. Each sonnet.

You are
The sixth person
In Dunn county to write
About the recent tornado
The sixth

Moved by the weatherwoman
I go digging for rainy
Tankas wherever it’s been raining
Tiny haiku blooming wherever
There’s been weather


Standing –
Looking around – inside
Of some withering memory
Can prove
Parts and wholes all mixed and mangled,
Branches where limbs once swung,
Boiling solids,
(Were furniture)
Dim in the living room;
Red as blood because it is blood
((Not real
Brain blood))
Close friends and strange people twining,
Combining, but all wrong.
And finally
It’s gone