I've been collecting photons
but not lightly
they come with a shadow
an absence

These carriers of time
but not timely
arguing amongst themselves
like spies drinking

They seek pressure
to pressure a field
of me blooming
as is my insistence

florid with atoms
of disregard and
disrepute balling
like fireflies

can you see
the crinkles
then you know
about crinkling

You can't handle it

in some insight
i see I avoid
and it's gone
hidden
in my fear
or what
supervises
the rails
i barrel down
calling myself
a thought
steering me from
knowing
what shan't i know
I am talking to my skin
and those muscles
and, really, that cord
down my back it knows
keeps me ignorant
what i need to know
to imagine i drive
spinning my
plastic wheel
closely watched
we turn i grin

i should be shouting
should i be shouting
what am i shouting
why am i

to shout
about
what
i just should be shouting

something just what thing
not this thing surely
but something that has
that ring thing

that ring thing i seek thing
i've only a dull detection
but its enough for addiction
as in there is not enough

in the recoil of these keys
as feedback
to the pressing of lettered
darkness

a pressing of time tight
as a frightened night
lived again still
wanting death

this is uncertain
and feathered
or is it's pulse
feathery

certain to stop
why not now
just shy of then
certainly

we'll stop reading
and the waveform
collapses and
dissipation

to lower wavelengths
cousins and
lovers radiate
dissolution

all of us and
our memories
seeking lower
manifestation

shells of former
selves dissipate
to new varieties
of vapor

shelled and roughly
discarded charges
accumulate only
in memory

tangents alight
grips on tonight
fancy takes flight
you dim the light

I'm certain you are fine
I only enquire because
your countenance flatly

speaks of dreams and hills
and skin in warm rays
of Autumn's afternoon

stirred slowly over heat
this wooden handle pressing
back against your hand

a lever held close against
tomorrow always seeking
a way in to these hills

bringing its ills
and i am younger
again today i think

then when I asked
perhaps impolitely
why your nexus

of dallying lines
drunken ripples
and lumpy oscillations

is calling for weather
hoping for lightning
even dull frightening

as days are stifling
and nights trifling
and lives baffling

you could have said
seeking solace and
certainty fell here

why don't you
have another hit of anger
and go off righteously
and go all righteous for me
this is what i love to see
easier to know where not to be