cdlv. nostradamus would be ashamed

why predict sexual dysfunction when there are tidal waves in the offing?

cdliv. i am inspired

it’s easy now to move my big body into shadows, to move from a place where there was nothing into the stark circle of a streetlight, the pipe raised up high over my head.

cdliii. imagine

if you will, three mice. contrary to what you have heard, they are not blind, but are in a spaceship traveling near the speed of light. this makes them unavailable for your supper, yes.

cdlii. skinhead

they call me skinhead, and i got my own beauty.

cdli. motel room

this room is located far away, at the line where sky meets sea, also nearby at the line where foot meets sea, the near line further than the far line.

cdl. come here, now

let’s rocket offstage. and if we’re not oblivious to the universal awkwardness around us, we will be, soon.

cdxlix. cf

i love your words more and more, the delight of similarities differently read, falling like cold but romantic nights. like quiet winds. you know their presence before you step outside.

cdxlviii. morning

we wake to each day like clockwork: we know the exact places to start.

cdxlvii. an apparent night

i wonder at distances, how i am near everyone but you. the changing life hangs outside the window. the trees, just a step from the road, amuse me the way they stand like people, sometimes loving, sometimes alone.

cdxlvi. language

sometimes i catch and call a language that isn’t mine, stepping behind a dream, raking burning leaves, or entering backdoors one after another after another after another after another drops off the edge.