facebook.
if I subtract virtual acres
of my pores, and feign
a limited sphere
of simultaneity,
then spokes from
the presumed hub
may attach to captions
about to be hatched
seemingly by accident.
when I wear pearls
they are sea pearls,
and you can't see them.
how is it possible
to relate in any manner
that makes sense,
and why would we?
mostly we are nouns alleging
we're affixed to verbs,
to the extent that we are verbs.
if the mind appears
to be awake, declaring
what that means,
we may reach out and inadvertently
touch, to the extent that
it will mean something
past, present, future
or some retrospective
point of maturation.
the downside of this
devotion to chance methods
may mean something
planned to the extent
that no one is
a full participant
in anything.
we're hinged as if to form
a surface synonymous
with an event by virtue of
the palpable endowment
of a visible thing.
with all of us here,
what is there
to retrace, invent, explore?
what weather translates
to observed indulgence?
does the mark left on virtual
place continue to exist
apart from individual consent?
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Noun that I've been watching (45)
floor.
children run in little packs across the floor above my hotel ceiling.
unspecific punctuation muscles its way into my thought processes.
fresh weather makes the desert seem a midwestern transplant
to the matte finish of grassless tan.
the more the evening starves itself of sun,
the louder are the points of information
that from some dark distance
form a line of code
I cannot translate now.
baseline data pave comfort on the unsuspecting psyche.
from there, each cell's naive.
night, meanwhile, offers treasured space.
dream's own vocabulary plush with need
and a response to vast misunderstanding.
children run in little packs across the floor above my hotel ceiling.
unspecific punctuation muscles its way into my thought processes.
fresh weather makes the desert seem a midwestern transplant
to the matte finish of grassless tan.
the more the evening starves itself of sun,
the louder are the points of information
that from some dark distance
form a line of code
I cannot translate now.
baseline data pave comfort on the unsuspecting psyche.
from there, each cell's naive.
night, meanwhile, offers treasured space.
dream's own vocabulary plush with need
and a response to vast misunderstanding.
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