Left For Good

I wrote in red on her thigh

while lightning lit the purple sky.

“your smoke drifts

into rain like

your soul

floating up or

flying down

by mere chance”

And her smoke formed fractals

of silvery gray microsecond swirls.

Her soul

stretched, spread

then left for good.

On Seeing a Non-famous Poet After an Interval of Fifteen Thoughts

My teeth touch glass

as I think of you, your presence.

 

The wanderer

of whiskey-tint skies.

In Reverse

This ancient tree bends

but belies a solid core.

Myself in reverse.

A Few Days Before Leaving

The last two years have

been something like a

blur, growing, associating

feelings with objects.

Emotions stored inside

songs playing on mute

inside subconscious.

Sounds shift

as if they

were entire lives

in and

of themselves.

Music ebbs then

flows into

seas of passing

images which will disappear

for forever.

The waves

were significant only when

there was impact with the

sand which makes up myself.

That Which is Digital Begins WIthout Worth

Because of the

possibility  of

infinite supply.

The rumblings

of engines to the

left and right and

overhead. The beat

of this organic

machine within

me. And my

constant doubt

in its performance.

Just let it work until it refuses

to continue. And

I, like many, will

also work until

I am no more.