The final pages of 2020.
The year, ALL CAPS, THE YEAR

we appeared
asreal as the famed angel of the same name,
black-lit in a glow

all shimmery, like on TV, retro greys, cold
slightly blue,
we may remember seeing this, through our own
child-eyes, but watch

your own pair of eyes, the window through which
your own soul sees,
now
through a glass, darkly, through our own re
flection making faces of all our wannave
na-I've dared
be
worse. For a joke nobody found very funny.

Those whose laugh is like hell let loose on the
wierdo;

they laugh, but first.

Peace laughs last,

forever, as a smile you wear, on your best days.

---
Would you believe, I've lived my most recent year,
the measured bit of time,
years of our life, on earth with you,
visiting the source,

living words, accepted as fluid in any compre-sensible stretch

to touch the download. Off… on, almost
ever, times and time and half-a time- hold our breath

shhh sixty cycle tuning, even the little space heater
harmonizes

we, we sing, we

susssssss pect sus piscious suspicious - see sci causa sui

almost persuaded…

lieve us take a stab at being asreal as we were

imagining, the long and the short and the tall

medium of transfiguration,
a great notion,

taken to heart, after I, Kenurchka Klumpen, fell in parts.

Pieces strewn though out the being isting eninsting,
possessing I-rights with all-in
life-bound
springs
gushing
free-truth seekers fed on gifts informing angels
comprised of those silver winged
Castaneda crows feats

as we squint into the old mama pine, seeing

points of sunstuff cone-ing from
tree to me to thee

Yes, all the promises yet to be defined asreal,

you get the message and admit
it is more than one can imagine thinking or asking,

Life on earth, after all that has ever happened,

we are the ones, we who read,
we step forward in to our best next yet, watch…