When you meet someone,
you only see the outside
even though you peer and peer
but after awhile,
if you're with her long enough,
you start to make the inside
feel like how it looks outside.

You start to make your
inside a little like her.

When you meet someone,
you only see the outside
even though you preen and peer
but after awhile,
if you are with him long enough,
you try to make the outside
look like how it feels inside.

You start to make your
outside a little like him.

Eskimos have a Gazillion
words for snow. We have
teraflop words for coffee.

Wikipedia it!
But don't get distracted
by the Tales.

Recounted stories of empires
held together by zeitgeist brand,
a belief, a set of ritual,
buying in bulk, a role of thumb,
opposable heuristics.

They've clustered history
in bunches like expanding
matter, as if it matters
who was king or Augustus.

Empires & civilization
held colloidal by the quirks
of geology and brand
feeding food-forward
with ritualistic sacrifice
in Megazillion iterations.

From Fertile crescent to Nile
Valley silicon, when we bind
ourselves to brand,
and move in belief,
secure in synchronized stability,
then comes the rubric cubes
miraculously built high
upon slave backs, holding
pyramidal server tombs.

Faithful Sultry less
bleeding gone to die.
Toothy advice sense
take chase child in lie
to win favor from Mom,
Dad and narrow eye.
Fatty truth rubs
beneath a morsel joke,
beating bushy retreat
into a sheep's cloak.
Wrath swearing against
old, Sultry and three,
false age and stiff tail
boar honest friend's free.

This is it;
the deepest I can fathom,
the fastest I can light
the flying arrow quick
released from not
so sure cocked
finger.

This is it;
the flattest I can color
the plainest I can reek
thru silicon weaving
densely threaded cloth
fibered shirt,
insignia emblazon
on Polo front
pocket.

This is IT;
the peak,
the twin peaks.
The n-peaks?

I realize
the game continues
and IT sets to zero,
derivatized as partial
IT-equations, is easier
to solve.

Time is curved
spaciously along
pushed strings

Curvature
constrained by
thickness of
stringy ropes

A bang splits
point-like to
cooling forces
beyond spontaneity

Membrane rupture
prevented only by
seeding of
life within bilayers

Weak and Strong
forced together
again by surface
surfactants

Should it be Blond straw Cafuné
Or fiery Auburn silk
interdigitated;
Slender twine prehensively Black
On hip Chestnut rope
fingered?

Lost and alone my thoughts fall
through seas of doubt and apprehension.
I pace across desolate hall
wanting to fill vacant chambers with fruition
And yet lacking a quick tongue
to woo my siren who walks the earth.
Lacking a sweet song when sung
will kindle a fire to heat my hearth.
I search my desert husk
For those stray, shy words to light
a bonfire against this lonesome dusk.
I search for the rush, that if right
will bring a warming voice
and soft eyes so that I may rejoice.