a thirst for the divine inspiration
which is probably hidden
in this coffee bean.

structure & form are reflective of
meaning & function,
so what does that make my body?
what does that make my face?

other people's opinions are always
teasing like they were brushes
and the strands of my hair were days
but the 80s are long gone and
i've got bigger dogs to wrestle.

if you compare a strong mule to a
peeping baby bird
you've wrapped up the history of thought
in two corrosive words.

i want fervently to have hope in my species.
but i walk a path that weaves tight
between compassion & contempt.

if structure &
form are reflective
of meaning & function,
then i am trickling down
with the fresh melted snow,
pouring myself in a muddy stream
filled with silver gold spirals that span
the visible spectrum, elongating & growing forever