i was feeling lonely and low again
but this time it had nothing to do
with volume of work just the over-
whelming sounds of not-people tal-
king talking to me to each other

it feels very much like being a
used rag beat up with others tears
frustrations broken dreams but none
of their joy optimism hope love or
happiness so i thought again about
life being for the living existing
stability competence steadiness
about wishing away forever but never
finding anything like today in the
infentissimal spaces between our
gaping web stories i wondered if
yours and mine would intersect
like eye-contact across railways
apathy indifference ignorance of
always being in the same place
at the same time but never sharing
the same moment in the same space

i thought of the intersections
of my veins and my synapses electric
and the nerves on leaves that
look an awful lot like the arrangement
of vessels under the skin of my
thick solid wrists with some bulging
out belying their strength with
their deep blue-ish color
blossoming brusie-like under the
surface pulsating with life-blood

then i thought of fishing by oceans
sitting cross-legged on wooden
benches overlooking rolling cold valleys
with a hot cup of tea in my hands
or waking up and sitting on the beach
in the sand hands wrapped loosely
tugging my knees to my chest
watching the ocean waves come in
in the soft light of stars giving
way to some of the early morning rays
spreading like coffee slowly spilled
across the thick cheap carpetting used
in cheap office spaces with all
the color of a muted mix of yellows
reds oranges pinks blues refracted
across the skies forming impressions
on the water that waves more prominently
preening in the separation between
itself and the now lightening skies