Breakfast for Mom
and I, then a garage sale

From the French garer
A shelter

We're selling or giving
away our old shelter

Stagg St is up for sale

This is a good thing
Cuz lately I'm down
whenever I'm there

A shelter
A garer
A garage

Mostly we store
accumulated shït
from Pigs on the Wing

Mostly I remember
us with nothing
but each other

And we were happy.
Or? Are my memories
gaslighting

Le mie zie
Two are gone
I miei zii
One is gone

It's 2025

April showers, a Sweet-season'd
"Come le dolci piogge alla terra"

The passing rain changes our Face
"Come alla terra le dolci piogge di primavera"

Are we becoming Literals?
Thus Poetry Month ends

"Cosi mi sazio o faccio penitenza
tutto divoro oppure resto senza"

(Cue Wayne Shorter)

Eat Swim Fly
Eat Pray Love

Common eating!
Mixing movies
Speaking no Evil

We pry and flay
We find Swove and do Lim!

We create Swovelim

In the the Deep South
Pass desert Wurms
Beyond chap lips

In the the White Mount
Thru Shangri-La
Above Event Horizons

We make Swovelim

38 minutes ago

Change is necessary.
Change is require.
But is change sufficient?

Change is a diversifier.
Change is a niche filler.
But is change transformative?

Change is not good.
Change is not bad.
But then what changes do we keep?

Heuristic small change we like?
Perpetuating idiosyncratic Absurdities?
Selecting traits for "survival"
in a world of our own creation.

Do you understand the Michael Jackson trap?

Real Evolution is easy.
Diversity + Mobility = Survival
But cosmetics is much harder.

What will the monkey see in the mirror?
Will he like my face?
Will I have diversify my humanity,
change my BIOS for faces,
to an arbitrary Facebook,
Unrecognizable to a nostalgic monkey?

Hope and Love
     by Jane Hirshfield

The Great Blue Heron of Dunbar Road
     by Ada Limón

Find them on the Cloud
I made a small space for you There
Where we'll be Fair

Find us under the Shroud
Like faint visage lying in Turin
A blue heron amongst the horses

If we have time, find us
If we have goals, make us

Reale e non un qualunque
Giuseppe social costruzione
che scopa il suolo tra noi

A swallow
     has long pointed wings
     and forked tail
This bird is uncommon
     in my life

A sparrow
     has broad winds
     and round tail
I've known this one
     my whole Life

A raven
     is dark as night
     with haunting tale
I'll get to know this dream
     in my resting life

A rooster
     is a colorful cōck

Sometimes

I fantasize that I'm he
Flightless, earthbound, scavenging
on discarded flesh

We're eating at the crossroad, round midnight

Other times

I wake as a common swallow
"La rondinella che giace, ferita al suolo"

Happy rain
black Stagg

In the reverse time
In the science
In the doublespeak

We listen
to Noise
to Hear
the Song

backwards

To the beginning
To the Garden without Eve
To the Gethsemane night

We voice
Our bitterness
We embrace
Our Joy

Soon I'll be three again
playing
Forever you'll be thirty
teaching

Love
At the beginning
Before the Noise

My precious
My precious

My ring
My worry

Dark black circle
Round mine
Eye

Single
Forever
Looker

Meek
Seek

Power
Never
Mingle

P­ie
A$$ fine
White lite tingle

I'm airy
I sing

My precious
My precious