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ERR Apr 2012
We call it a casse-tête, she said
A “break head” if you prefer
We are each trying to fill in this
Jagged, fractured outlook
One piece at a time
On occasion you meet a corner
And they unlock for you new progress
(I think I have even found; a foothold in the face)
Others are peculiar, shaped like spilling liquid
Filling unique holes perhaps unknown to undone artists
Our greatest folly as we find our relative perspective
Would be to assume any kind of now-complete picture
We are dove tailed, ami
In ornate carpentry fine fitted
Angles filled with oil drops to help us burn eternal
An esprit ouvert, she said
In your tongue an open mind
The wise do not distinguish
Value forms of every kind
ERR Apr 2012
Chimpanzees can learn to recognize
Their own marked bodies
In mirrors
If raised in a space of social welfare and stimulation

We learn
Who we are
Through others
To be is to create
Bridge the synaptic gap and grab a fellow by the dendrites
Spew chemical transmission down their receptors
Until they are a person
If you care for another you will do this
Be the brain
ERR Apr 2012
The pressure rises high, my dear
To force our paths apart
Beckon you from afar I do, for current she be ******
Twas for time we children planned, we are rocks and never raft

We were static to the standard when embedded in the bottom
They said the river widens but we stayed and kept our view
Being satisfied to share a partnered spot along the bends
Some rocks require quarry, settled still we need but two

Water rises, water falls, rain retreats and drops again
Yet the levels cannot meddle in a bond so strong as stone
Our pebbles growing from our fusion will meet their river own
They will step across our backs for founding guidance in their path

Even the rocks will fade, my dear
To the lapping of the rapids
We will crumble into silt, I fear
But I want to erode with you
Turn to dust and flow along the way
From permanence to naught
Embracing nothingness until
Our sediment compressed is one
ERR Mar 2012
Time stood stagnant as the darkness crept in and distorted surroundings faded
He thought about his first friend, how they’d met
On a beach collecting eponymous Herman ***** by the bucket-full
Her face and name were gone, but she was born August twelfth
His first ice cream cone, the way the green mint melty soup
Ran down his hand; he hated sticky fingers
The comfort in his veins made him cloudy, the track on his inner arm throbbed
He thought about the bully who’d beaten him senseless
For spilling lunch milk on his shoes
And that girl whose clumsiness he’d claimed as his own
Who’d watched without a word and like all left him loner
He remembered his excitement at the first patch of beard
And how he’d stopped going to church when his brother
Finally left that chair and learned to fly
His eyes now drooped to poppy slits, but the flashes were ever blasting
He thought about sleep, his sweet retreat always
And what it was like to have had a family
He remembered a lecture from a physics professor
About chess and universe particles
The eternal contained in the tangible
Infinity carved from wood
The sideways eight ways in which one can be a mortal
And how everything ends the same
The branches become the seed
Can it all be so simple, he wondered
As the apartment floor grew distant
He thought of all the times he’d ****** up
And how in his rearview mirror, he wanted to
Embrace those moments, love them and
Ask them to be godparents to his unborn life
As he kissed the light goodnight, his only regret was
Having so many
He thought of everything
Then
He thought nothing
ERR Mar 2012
Sorry I’m late everyone
Crumpled sleeves and neck knotted non-nimbly
With slacks that droop and bag a bit
Making the rounds
The white walls naked and cold, bare floors with no sleepy feet retreat
You look good John, real good
Better without the gravity induced smile and fist full of faith rocks
I appreciate your approval from
The other night, and I plan on asking her soon
Some more faces slumping about through throngs of hushed conversation
Still miss that cooking you know
Or those curls, rasp and break shake grip
My sweet Bear, I will run with you again slinky brother
I still come-to holding not you
Not sure what to make of ya Mike, irksome island soul
Fuzzy blur or silhouette at best but angry you I’m sure
How long will the collection grow?
Another dusty shoebox locked up in the attic
ERR Feb 2012
The valentine sky is swept by scotomas
As swooping murders shade the overhead
They dot the broccoli tops
Because they know
Safety not in numbers, but Being is found through others
The swans flap-walk cross the loch
And air their hind to dive
Black and white share fish and space
Because they know
Worms aren’t picky, and eyes are stupid
The brave diablos plummet from the castle ramparts
Clear the cliffs and meet gusts head on
They do not slow their descent
Because they know
Life is not too short, but too long to live with fear
The mallards wade through garbage scraps
Bright male with paler mate
They never leave each other’s side
Because they know
god is in the pair, a worthy life is shared
ERR Feb 2012
When the back cover closes
Under a shivering hand and new perspective
The dead come back to your lucid bed body
To chat and save the haunt
Your forehead stays flat and pockets
Could be green, or not
And illness sounds pretty
Good when read aloud
Tummies fill not with pah *** owns
But better, moths
Drawn to unseen lantern looms
And blue is just a note to pass
In a cyclical path from red to
Ultra purp and back
Tomorrow might make you **** yourself
But the fear will keep you warm
Too long do we settle to **** the noxious
And ask for mistakes in body art
Why blot ink
Think
Breathe
Live
Death don’t hurt, so neither will a running start
The fall is plenty long and
Pavement tasted like spring
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