I'm strung across moments
happened happening to happen
timelines bleeding into comics
crayons more than sufficient
to capture the complexities
of the flag which is a knot
in tissue as are you knot

of slippery warm nerves
singing now out of dots and dashes
degrees of charge potential
you feel the calcium dissipate
recorded and carries away
this bloodstream this  grip

on fluid desirous
desultory time
moments competing to be now
land it
instantly confused by applause
give way

you giving way
no there's nothing here
strung to anyone
your connectome
escapes each swallow
and welcomes company

The framed moment hove into view
skint 'tween and back lit
by a shining tale trailing
into tall dangerous grass
feeling just like home

turning in to everything
on its way to here
and here and here
these endless solidifications
sound like crisp pepper shells
bursting nows instant thens
heavens connected to their hells
carried like neatly packed brown bag
explanations of nothing we know
we make up keeping going
and all its movement
since were arriving
at best

arrive at best is the
nature of arrivings
is the nature of endings
or end a river of nows
here and now again

Settled in words
caramelized by night
stroll ones skull
looking about
disinterested

at this ******* and that
strewn about in here
oh the pictures
and intentions
and crop circles

The sound outside of me
appears significant to you
Accented speaking voice asks
"Can I ask what is red?"
Hungry for color it pierces
about to happen
solidifying into only

i can hold on the precipice
of a memory
a wretch passing the distillery
quails at its power
toasts fearfully gated subterfuge
a land of exceptionally good bad
doubles itself under fingers

this time is needed to rectify
our imaginary knowing's
claim it's right to beat as mine
there's nothing beating as  me
save saving this with perception
there is an old song
only you know

Legs of iron rode men of nonsense
and bullets flew by squealing
and swearing 'bout the target's
low value
Of re-entry and skidding to a halt
i'm certain
i will be thrown out here
for some purpose

Open my legs
for your barnacle
i am fodder and fertilizer
darting about
'til you're asleep lotioned

This range
spilt upon rock
by novelty and pull
leaves out hope
that torpedo
of breathless blood
on the rod
its a soul roundup
and branding
get together
of lessening selves
for, i imagine, something
i imagine
outcropping your hopes
and you **** back
in how-ness
i'm here

holding time
against what
was said then