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