supposed repose.

not really wandering close to shock
lost inside my home, i’m up and down and falling
down around my ankles
where the cat resides
i’m containing, holding in all my me my movement
because i can be a pretty big catastrophe
given enough light and
take away my sound, my dizzy energy
i pretend i’m drowning
but it’s just snow
this isn’t really a flood, regardless of the way i keep feeling
like i’ve been crying
it’s just the tension and my eyes
i’m losing sight
of
all i thought i wanted
i don’t think i have a home
all is random chance
life is happenstance
my window’s closed these days
so i’ve been finding it hard to breathe
the air is closer to the ground
down mingling with the shit
i don’t even notice
how long it’s been since i spoke
or woke
before mid-day when i didn’t have to work
i pretend i’m working
toward some ultimate Destination
when really i’ll remain a nowhere nothing nobody
working for you
and you and you
a year at a time somewhere new
i’ll never be you.
i’ll never be you.

beautiful… nsi .quintessence.

the snowy wind blows right through my raindbow colored gloves

I love about the last eight lines. Love them. (Is everything really random? Even your own actions, thoughts?)

so much… you have soooo much…. you are an ocean who takes your own swelling tides for granted, like it just is… and it isss…. and you arrrrrre.. an ocean… a conjunctive movement …. beyond modern algorithms of predictability… that unpredictable thing… it can pay off… you can get paid… just for being you… you can… you are a candle in a dark room… moody and necessary, lovely

someday those feelings may go for me. i wish i was working more for myself.

deserving always seemed to imply some kind of reason behind things…i never bought that – “the way is the way which cannot be known” and jazz. please be

in coincidence i just sat in my closet and it is much to small for my own percieved skeleton