To write one more is a crime!
To contemplate immortality!
And the nonlinearity of time
To see the sun turn
And my eyes opening
To lose the flea that travels with me
To sit still in a doctor’s office
            Expand! I want more!

The seat that the man sits in to
be designed & the possibilities that
can occur as a swift spark of
the pen occurs again. It takes all day, all day,
                    to achieve the flow
                        that brings
                   creativity, like water being
poured down a toy that shifts the water
from left to right, as designed by its constructor,
and is colored yellow.

What I need is adulthood and normalcy
for our dance to satisfy and
for our creation to be enough as we
stand in suits taking a class photo.

To break from the line and continue
the lineage onwards to humility
because the gap that exist is

too far for a jump.

Our mouths are covered with tape
And we are cautiously out on a date.

Alright, Alright.

Trying to not throw my body on
the world’s stage, as we look upwards at
the king from the terrace on the third floor
balcony.  

Crown on head & we respect but we
Criticize.

“she runs off and we catch her”

& I’m dine & mad rush ends.

We are eating shame I am playing
                                        the
             ­                          king.

The brown sand beneath our feet
                                  shoes off
                            watching the waves
                             crash into the beach.
The car is in the parking lot. It is
a Mini Van. We bought it in 2003.
We are happy with its maroon color.

May 4th 2018, 2:30pm