for I work by day, but live by night*

not an axiom, a formula, for success and wealth,
not a suggestion, not seeking a reaction,
it is a plain as night
fact,
still don't recommend it as a way of life

but if the shoe/life fits
wear it,
even as no sleeps. speeds up your arrival
at the Grand Central Terminal

in black eyed circles, endless pointless future worrying,
in bad poems writ after midnight after midnight
when the quiet
keeps you company - a friend that asks for nothing

(but an occasional mention in one of the poems born
in the delivery room of the dark)

but through the nighttime writing escapades
I am more than renewed,
a born again human
with a covenant, armed to the teeth,
drinking his dis-owned fluids and juices,,
spilling out as staccato words,
ha!
splitting his infinitudes

if you had foreseen this as my future fate,
a lonely human up all night,
with the night and words making his
holy triumvirate, I may have thought
there are worse ways to prepare
for the silence that comes after
the no more arrives
and we depart
ensemble,
ensemble

8/31/17
2:28am

Call yourself Morgan.
Do not hesitate.
You were born on summer solstice.
Like the sun, you’re distant from others.

Move to Seattle and leave no forwarding address.
Busker for a break and warm your bones with charity work.
Pretend poetry is the only thing you’re good at,
And be good at it.

You can’t just write ****** words into
An exhausted leather journal, no.
Incorporate stanza into every conversation.
Drip intensity and rapture like morphine
Into the veins of anyone who will actually love you.

Speak as if you were never human and you’re still learning to exist.
Metaphors and run-on’s are your best friends-
Run-on sentences.
Run-on arguments.
Run-on relationships.
Run-on recovery.

Develop a reliance on caffeine so potent that
you've become the 7:30am medium black coffee
at the cafe down the street.
Leave no traces.