I hope these words won't fail me, not

that I'm worried my thoughts can't be, bought

from some failed memory, see

these things won't be like allegory, free

from my constant monotony, falling

into a pit of true uncertainty, calling

whatever can be the deepest rooted tree, knowing

its inside my mind swaying like a sea, flowing

freely on the onset of hyperactivity, jump

at the sight of my soul solely, slump

back into the fall of feeling lonely, could

you ever feel this way anecdotally, would

anyone know if this is noteworthy?

i.

in a letter to my son:

     there is only so much knowledge I can stand.

in his letter back:

     I was finally able to draw a mouth.  I drew first a box, then lied.

ii.

a gutted refrigerator rocks in a junkyard.

either the door has jammed, or she

is pregnant.


iii.

when silent prayer came into fashion
my daughter said her first word
and told me
what it was.

iv.

anecdotally,

they were Mr. and Mrs. Nothing

and eloped.