a pair of headphones with the mufflers missing
the wire that goes from said headphones to the computer
a ceramic pug in a red scarf containing tubes of paint
an ocarina that i picked up in a ghost town/tourist trap in california
a red cup for water during painting
a book called the artist's mentor
an adjustable lamp
wristbands a lover made for me
a book for savannah college of art and design featuring someone holding a large inflatable red ball on the cover
an incomplete abstract painting on canvas paper, slightly crumbled,
a box for the savannah college of art and design VR kit that they sent me
a book on writing
a book about color line and form in the visual arts
a red squishy ball inside a a fishnet containment, creating organic bulbous abscesses when squeezed
a book of poetry with a red cloth on the cover
a small packet of konpeito, a japanese sugar-based hard candy
a novelty necklace designed to resemble christmas lights, complete with glowing LEDs
a red colored pencil
a red marker
a red mechanical pencil
a gigantic anthology of american poetry i have yet to dive into
a packet of cherry jello

in the cabin green my legs were resting within the
sleepingbag on the floor (parents had the bed) i drifted
then drifted back when the door knocked i saw
the night and the night said "let's go" and we went
to wherever the night went when they woke.
down the steps white-painted wood to
the pit where a fiery group coalesced into flames
the amalgamation was chanting stories of disembodied hands
that grab the ankles of unsuspecting campers (i flinched) then
the night lead me, with their starry hand, to bales of hay
which i stacked into a staircase forgoing the horseticks to climb
upon a truck parked overnight -- i wanted to touch
the night but the night, their ethereal moon pointed my way
had to say goodnight and gave way to dawn.

a kingdom wholesale, loose strings of coupons;
a throne of pepsi cartons amidst the concrete
lights shine over the infinite rows of freezers
so sample the pork and pass by the petunias
dream of the electronics display let the
laptops regard visions of the self inside which
empty bubbles where words should go but don't
flutter across up blue and white.
to buy mulch is to regard the manure as
nothing but what it claims to be.
i ordered a hotdog after checking out and i sat and ate
and there is a vending machine here that only
dispenses water bottles.

along the shore of pink the boardwalk rose
the rose balloons can't keep up, so
ice cream melts and so do clouds, speckled.
strawberry flavors, unkempt cones, chocolate.

the other day i was on the waves
and, overwhelmed by the wake,
it crashed, i crashed. pummeling
that sand, that shore: baptism in reverse.

the candy shop, the bookstore, the
arcade, funland, the t-shirt shop, the
shell shop, the gift store, a tattoo parlor,
a hat store, boardwalk fries, purgatory.

where do i even begin? to point
into five outward points is an idea that
only translucent particles of nothing or everything
can enjoy with real, unwashed hands.
the glassy revery of daffodils

and powers of numbers stretch
to an aether, a void worth unmentioning, unforgetting,
reforgetting and rementioning.
i say goodnight, even if we're already dreaming,
and maybe the night might undo its amnesia.

o how centuries pass with little
regard for the
stones that they
subtracted -- ! the dribbling
of water cannot
salivate over a rock
without a speck
mixing into
that droplet, being taken away,
carrying with it the dreams of the rock's atoms.
further do the rocks align with the sea than they could ever
the earth.
the way waves wobble holds a water
jug and pours out the turquoise stars, the stars
pour out water and into water the jug
(a tremble) sobs.

heaven! heaven! far too long
    have we forgotten to
whisper white clouds
                        into existence, the wavering
uncertainty of birds
    made into rote algorithms;
    the unnerving way that
lungs fill can
                 begin to unravel the yarn
that wraps around the trees
                 and trees
        are nothing too special -- i'd say

stratus (stratus
(cumulonimbus)
) infinity
at stake:
        streaks
(oh there's my
    soul somewhere
amid the pneumatics)