there are those who say
the rock in my pocket
blue-hued and tumbled
is a boon to communication
so here goes

it starts with a question
is there an ending?
and if there isn't
is there an answer?
and if there is
when we get there
will we remember
and if we do
will we know the asker anymore

but I didn't come here
to blow smoke at tomorrow
you say
or drink the sloshing yesterday
I swim in
with any number of cups
I'd never touch the bottom

there are those who say
that pattern is
what it is
but we know only books
and their pages of mirror

I've never known a pattern
til it's over and done
and I didn't come here
to blow smoke at tomorrow
or drink the sloshing yesterday
I swim in
and the rock in my pocket
is a skull-crack gift
and a poem