still

well-thumbed crucifix
conception still

time and glass ribs

chicken-bone over-cooked

things buried and pulled

here begins

everything everything

fervent windbells call

double-helix knot

arcosanti wind distraught

discorporate howl
volition still

liquid H2O solo

shingle blessed and blown
anti-grav roof-free 

mechanic quantum fold

everything everything
ends here

desert home cross-out
no. 18 lovely water

lullaby terrify sing

lilac

horn-rimmed 
glasses

head in 
hand fingers tipped 
in electric green inverted 

90 degrees entirely 
double-jointed

textbook, table

map of the brain 
laid flat

she fingers her 

glasses up her 

bridge toward 
eyebrow-level 
bangs

cheeks

lean deeper 
into psychology

horn-rims slip 
toward gravity caught 
by the tip of her nose

she fingers her 
glasses toward 
eyebrow bangs

lean, slip, tip, finger

rinse, repeat

still

chicken pulled from an over-cooked bone. suspended moisture, poised to discorporate into non-dimensional space. a well-thumbed crucifix. a double-helix knot. still volition. still conception. we share the same primeval drive you and I. everything begins here. everything ends here. a blessed shingle without a roof, blown across a desert of crossed-out homes. a sacred foil package tethered to an important piece of wood. the fervent call of Arcosanti wind bells. sing me a terrifying lullaby.

it moves of its own volition

powered by some renewable source that mankind has yet to discover. quantum mechanics folded in on themselves. woven into a double helix knot. all should end here, life should cease, but it does not. my life defies reality as it always has, as it always returns to the same primeval drive. everything begins here. everything ends here. a blessed shingle without a roof, blown across a desert of crossed-out homes. a sacred foil package tethered to an important piece of wood. the fervent call of Arcosanti wind bells. sing me a terrifying lullaby.

dark pants, blue coat
dark blue beanie

he sucks in no smoke
puffs out an exhale
and still no smoke

outside
the coin-less laundry
staring
the half-empty parking lot

a day or two’s
stubble
under thick black mustache
he half-empties his butt
expels tomorrow’s rent

into the air
to mingle with my car’s exhaust
he drags on the next repo
I stumble into the lane

dry smoke
bus with no fare
lost between

he tossed his last penny
on a load of laundry and a dry

Air Sonnet

The urge for more than space allows compressed
into the time before the last time or
the time before the next.
Still she collects everything around her
against a locked door: the song of taut drum
not yet rung, the skin stretched too thin across
the diaphragm, a chill waiting to come
through. I want to be there with her.
.................. I want to know where it begins.
The stopped exhalation of dropped pressure,
The quickening reflux of backward wind.
.......Quiet in a moment of pleasure.

The same load, the same push, the same felt thrill
always followed by an answerless still.

Steller's Jay at Castle Rock

The animals love me.

This black-crested blue jay just said so.

He flew up to me not eight feet away and told me how important I was to the world. He said I'm in a safe place.

He said I was welcome to stay here as long as I needed.

He said he would be back if I needed him.

He knows I won't need him, but we both know it's important for me to hear.

Now I'm just waiting here for the next miracle to come along.

Miracles don't work that way.

They don't come along.

They crash into you, or you into them, or both together.

They take too much serious energy to manifest into being.

That means you have to give a lot for a miracle to happen.

I can't stay.

I must move on.