I have a universe
in my pocket... and some
lint. The world
at my fingertips,
all knowledge awaits
and forty two cents
in change rattles next to it.
I have a universe
in my pocket and what...? I
use it to watch cat videos
and trade petty barbs
with fellow trolls under a bridge.

Looking into shadow.
That place back there
     where light won’t go.
and I see…
                      …me
A me, I think, not me.
I’m not that thing,
sorrowful wretch,
a broken soul that peers back
from the blackness I deny.

I Am Me! but me won’t let me go.

**** You!
( **** me…?)
**** this…

“Shadow, won’t you let me go?” I ask. And
I answer…

But, as yet, I will not hear him speak.

Does a tree dream of running?
Does a lake wish to fly?
A boulder in the woods, I think,
thinks slow and mossy thoughts,
for that is who it is.
So why can’t I be me
and dream a dream that’s meant to be?

Do you recall being stardust?
I don’t.
But, that’s what they say.
Elements forged in fusion’s crucible;
atoms born in the hearts of stars.
Do you recall being a comet’s tail?
Do you recall a time in space?
I don’t,
but then, it’s been a while.
Do you recall the lakes and streams;
swimming as fish,
or being water?
Do you recall the plains
when we roamed as beasts,
great and small?
Were you an antelope, a butterfly, a bird?
Were you a flower?
Were you Cleopatra?
Was I…Anthony, or just
some tea in Cleopatra’s cup?
(Did Cleopatra even drink tea?
I don’t know.)
Do you recall when you said
you loved me?
I do.
They told me,
“don’t fall in love with stardust.”
But then, what choice did I have?

I 

              spilled          some
                                         words
        on                  the

Floor and
                                               as they lay
                    they
                                    ­  surmount
     all
I've    ever     written.



                                 ...and I lay down my pen for a broom.

Tail twitch.
Cat crouch.
Haunches high.

…silly squirrel…

Tail fairly ***** now
(never understood…
won’t that announce
the cat’s about to pounce?).

that’s it squirrel…

oh yeah…

...silly rodent…

…stay right there...

don’t climb that tree…

…good squirrel...oh!..

you’re in SUCH trouble…

…weren’t a screen door in the way.

He wondered—
the mode of perdition’s redress.

No need of brimstone;
sufficient are memories;
clear,
insistent,
convicting.