joy throughout supplication;

Mindedness of all sorts carrying the weight of burden

and success, misanthropy versus what seems to be

an intrinsic love of all things.

Asymmetrical buzzing in my mind’s ear,

foggy imagery in my mind’s eye.

Things that are loud in thought must be close,

like auditory elements; things that are dim must have less

energy to impart and imbue and influence.

A trillion moments expired to make this happen.

A trillion more then brought me here.

The signal can meet the symbols if I try hard enough,

just not in meditation, because I don’t disappear

in it like I used to anymore, emptying

all of that buzzing—the same that frayed

wires make when they still channel electricity,

spitting sparks out of their split ends

or birds when they become loose out of drag.

I’m begging for something.

To find something on greener, grassier [greener] plains,

perhaps in a slightly more elevated valley

where I may find a place to lay

these custom chains and harness:

a point where I’m no longer seeking height and heat.

If I talk long enough

and loud enough

you’d eventually agree that it’s justifiable for me to be here.

Until then, I’m just going to coin the word “transitionism.”

It’s only a theory at this point.

It entails… me, and trying to find comfort in this & this and

every

subsequent

second.