i wish the earth would move
one inch to the left
so i could see the monster, fused
to the shadow, best.
and curl my toes in moonshine
breathless...
stuck in dark luck
and black mirth -
and forget.

But that Lens between the Sun and the Ant
is your Soul.
a less obvious fact,
but a tragedy
in the hands of the oblivious.
for we
are too young
to know the horror of our stupidity...
but

to
see through
it all
is  not
the point.


it's the knife
from nothing

and
the clouds don't see the weather
for they'd rather be the storm
and reign.

than feed flowers.