In the moment waiting for the next Mountains have become deserts Oceans have become salt plains The stars blink out and on one by one

"Every day a torrent of experience washing Over the heart's stones; the ocean that never rests The world always in motion, never stopping"

An afternoon sun promises breezes and months of summer Sundays, overtures from chickadees and crickets of no matter under this shady porch.

the oracle ponders in your eye the absenteeism of your gaze your mouth that has opened to the words that no longer need speaking...

my world stops at the window outside fear, frozen in desire

Still, or walking backwards the past no longer approaches blinds are pulled, phones unanswered, nursery rhymes are unlearned...

painted in lamplight, now open your eyes a fixed ashen shadow reflected in the glass...

Desire never survived in these quotations, it’s transition became a verb with razor sharp wings...

Wait, now, in this breathless pause for all silence to end...

The truth of you is a jigsaw, jagged edgedand it's fragments are something broken,or not put together yet- Your memory was an abbreviationor an constant accusation butstill was what it was, iflacking clarity or context. Answers are mosaics oftenbuilt rough with scraps of experienceseldom assembled without drafts. Your memory is a butterflyentombed under glasssuggesting flight butpreserved without life; colors in a vacuum that never fade are no longer real.

As if telegraphedthrough old wiresthrumming with hunger and hubris, thesemonochrome intents andthe borrowed fervor ofbygone ages. Words said sound ofburnt wooden paintings theyeroded from their meaning,left yellowed pages andsepia eyes thatdigest everything too quickly. Color pooled behind, in a timemany walked around blind thenseeing, meaning, electric,art, at random, justfilling empty space lying from here to there.

In this pond for the looking you’ll find only you,

my arms, swollen with the dead work of the world.

his unrepentant apathy.

I would chisel an epitaph in the shadow of a shallow grave.

Hammered down to the worlds face only to wake with chill frosted eye and a burning anticipation...

I did not know that you were becoming when I met you; you were becoming the earth, moon and stars.

When I am lost there is no language I understand

I dreamed that truth was a light that shone in duplicity.

Coyote noticed people had been getting sick

The smile percolated a still pool of water flat as the horizon waiting for that moment it could take hold of an answer

the lesson not quite learned with billowing trails of burning wings, drawn silent, then disappeared...

Outnumbered by stars encompassed by distances, ripples spread from every step finding every direction corporeal through life but ethereal in thought...

Stamps didn’t cease to stamp. Bitcoin kept bitting. Aluminum Trump collector’s memes gathered dust in hard drives...

A second from cooling, still white hot in open air brought to solder, fire-red as primal fear...