Nothing is simple now… and nothing ever was.
But i recall the majesty of my naivete’
and linger in the triumphant fog of my illusions
as a young man of almost a Minute.
Be that, as it may.
i am not among the Mockingjays
nor the calendars of arbitrary
Days.
I am the eclipse of insincere Living.
i blot out the None.

with blueberries from an indigo
Genesis: i stain my sky with every unbelievable Promise -
my Calculus can muster. My Love in tow.
I gather at the edgeless mist
of my Identity and etch the core
of my consecrated cacophonies
into the bones of dead whales like Scrimshaw
for deep kids.

And that's It.