Strobing flashes in the clouds,
Thunder rolling through the hills.
Dust puffs with the first drop-
The promise of grass and prairie flowers.

The Indian gentleman, Brahmagupta,
invented the zero, null, nil, and zip--
just for times like this:
You betrayed me, you broke my heart.

Rewind, erase, delete, obliterate.
You are naught to me.

Black holes are really cool.
The bigger the cooler.
And they are not really black.
Absorbing real quick, emitting real slow,
By George, that's the way to go.

Driving down a backroad in desolate Apulia,
a black cloud of birds formed behind a hill--
It became two then one again in dynamic flight,
resolving into specks and finally,
graceful darts of life.
In the air: Swerving, splitting, rejoining.
Aware of each and all,
a synchronous response to a secret call.

A wave in motion, a flowing organism,
never repeating but ever the same.
We stopped and looked with wonder--
How do they do that? And why?

A lightning bolt: Is it a protest? Pesticides?

What would we do when
topsoil blows,
oceans rise,
food is scarce,
and wells run dry?
Probably nothing as organized- or beautiful.

The Indian gentleman, Brahmagupta,
invented the zero, null, nil, and zip--
just for times like now:
You betrayed me, you broke my heart.

Zero, null, nil, and zip--
Rewind, erase, delete, obliterate.
You betrayed me, you broke my heart.
You are nothing to me.

Rewind, erase, delete, obliterate.
Brahmagupta’s wonderful cipher lets me precisely say:
You are naught to me--
And not just for now, but forever.

In Boston, I shared a bed with a stranger,
In New Orleans, it was rope...
Just trying to lose the loneliness blues.

In Memphis, I sat with a stray cat,
I smoked-- the cat did not...
Just trying to lose the loneliness blues.

In Atlanta, forking out bail--
an all night binge on Chanel...
Just trying to lose the loneliness blues.

In Chicago, cut my hand
on the shell of thorns...
Just trying to lose the loneliness blues.

At home, settled now,
looking for more words for the next verse...
Just trying to lose the loneliness blues.

Strobing flashes in the clouds,
Thunder rolling through the hills.
Dust puffs with the first drop--
The promise of grass and prairie flowers.