Is there
a deeper Darkness
Or
Is there
a deeper Lightness
waiting?

Abscesses of our minds
not withstanding

What hole
thing
R u?

Wavering in the light
pixelated weak

R u carried
or do you stand?

Is there
an edge
to be had

Or is it
just an occupation
from which
to distract us

and see
tear filled acts
of confusion
celebrated

clearly we are
winning
our game
to be righteous

Which is
to lose
and somehow
win over time

Unerasable blues
and salt
seeds of continuous
self-doubt

Potato chips
to dark fasting
Crayons to an
iron radiator

Socks to a nebulae
clenched in birth
is a song
radiating

We are the deeper
folds
respected by fabric
aficionados

Creases in everything
shape themselves
on our tongues
in our emanations

We are the shore
climbing for awhile
to the land
then back to the sea

We are the circle
almost back
skip that illusion
lean into the swing

Break into another
beaker of stinking next
pour it on yourself
suffer early and often

this continuity
a lie in a lie
in a genre
you choose

for breakfast
crunchy
is how
you prefer





Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis