Always something to
look at in world-- daisy
gaze and hazy maybe
mountains maybe dust
maybe clouds-- graveyards
of sight, stonegrass silence
and stillness.. marks on the
houses otherwise all perfect,
laden in life and restful nights,
dogs and cats with no interest
to leave.. flickering materials
and angry fathers, quiet bandana
boys drumming along with a box
of diapers for unexpected babies
born in the age of the Final Judgement--
laughter and pain, lighters sky'd, using
drifty smoke as proxy for journey upward
and into blue highlight like butter over
space-time..



it really hurts

to find yourself, doesn't



it?