Saturday, June 13

i step through the hazy angle of a cloud shadow
and out from the safety of the sun,
into the murky half-dark
that milky ecliptic light
settling in uneasily all around me–
pooling into crevices and caressing startled surfaces
like an icky cling film shrinking and tightening
on all of us, every thing

(if you could measure the temperature this light would be tepid)

my boots rush and whoosh through the lengthening grass
hurry, now
can’t escape this chalky, opaque light
the wateriness gently chokes me
i swim, while drowning.

Friday, June 5

Hickory dickory dock

There was once a lengthy period of my life during which i always existed twenty minutes ahead, in the future.

i was late a lot. (Well, we were late a lot.) We knew we would always be late. So why was it so hard to move faster, or start earlier, and thereby fix the problem? Seemed insurmountable as obstacles go. So one day we set out to trick ourselves. First it was five, then ten, and before long every clock in the apartment was set twenty minutes fast. (why did we stop there? no one knows.) Bathroom, bedroom, microwave, living room... our computer and mp3 players were normal time zones, so there really wasn't very much temporal continuity. When i would get to work (sometimes still, late) the clock there did not match my iPod's.

How does anyone ever really know what time it is?

(Airplanes are full of time-travelers.)

Tuesday, June 2


an actual angel arrived.

besotted, billy bowed

clarions clamoring,

din developed...

everyone else elbowed

for first–

groping, groveling.

his heart hastened,

ichor ischemic.

jubilance jettisoned.

kids kicking

lapsed, lulled.

massive mountains moaned–

near & 'neath nebulous

old oak outcried of

protest; portentous paroxysms

quickly & quietly quelled.

rather rapacious realities rested.

so senses shook

truly to the taproot, & tempered

unrest, upheaval underneath

vast, verdant valleys.

well worn, we waited

extemporaneous, xeric.

you, youth–

zealous zoomorphs