we use a cheap language full of facts
spools feeding nightmares
in our grisaille history painting a flat canvas
every thing reduced
the door said open
and you opened it

so much of what we are
is not about how well
we do it
but how badly
we want it
the promised future never came quick enough
and we are left asking…

the phone wants constant interaction
the builders drill, drive the caterpillar squeals
the kids on the trampoline howl
the dog whimpers like Miles Davis on his horn
a more authentic expression than
the smooth pop jingles
from a lost youth

zero — expression from nothing —
the background radiation —
the song of yes — I am — I want —
all this noise against the sense of lack
now we know why exhale follows inhale
and all things seek to return to their natural gravity —
observations will be made by the still articulate
of the tiny ecosystem of a forgotten pond
the silence after this will be immaculate