I take comfort
from the greasy food
on my plate
hunter gatherer instincts
sated, my eyes search
for campfire flickering flames
and settle on the fish tank
I am zoned
replete
in the cavern
of my own space
my day over
I wait for the miracle
of sunrise

Will I ever want to build or make something really detailed, or thereby solve something detailed?
Or, do I simply want to float away on fundamentals and never make anything?
Simply knowing the parts and never creating structure?
Because that structure always has to be unlike the structure with which  I associate my soul - the human temple.
Thus I discard them.
I see not benefit from the extra makings of the human mind.
I am as a cave man.
It would be much more beneficial if my soul associated with a body that was dependent on the mind rather than independent from it.
As if I had no soul with God, no peace with God, no spirit with God.
No peace, soul, or spirit with nature either, but only peace in human invention.

Sometimes it just rains all day.
the sun and the moon and the stars
all take the day off,
Get all gloomy and introspective and ****.
drop deep thoughts
and fill up puddles
and bring meaning to things like
windshield wipers,
and lackluster poetry.


I'm still sixteen,
out much too late,
perched up on the steps of the old bank.
searching for reason
in the glare of small town streetlight.
I'm still seven
when it would just pour down,
I mean literally pour down,
in buckets and all that.
it doesn't rain like that anymore.
Not here. Not anymore.


A storm-front has been working it's way
up out of the southwest
since i have existed.
certainly much longer than that.
it's carved a path from caveman to Kentucky.
and here we are
continuously inspired
by water from the sky.


I'm going to sleep.
it just feels right.
I hope that it will rain all night.
I sleep well.