I laid next
to you and the
window was open
allowing your breaths
to mix with the sound
of the endless crickets
and frogs out there
and in all the endless
white noise I felt myself
come apart and was left
adrift in the emptiness
of space and time
sinking through infinity
with not a care in the world
for you are my anchor.

An
ancient
monolithic
structure built
before the advent
of written history and
all we can really do is try
to speculate as to the building
processes without acknowledging
how many people always must perish
in the name of megalithic shots at greatness

I need an archaeologist
who is willing to sift
through the rubble
of my life
and piece together
the narrative
of my existence
and brush off
the old and dusty
artifacts that
I've forgotten to
look at in years
and tell me
how to brush off the
cobwebs and spiders
without getting
bit.

I tend to suffer
from bouts of
paranoia
that only seem to
get worse as
my days get better
as though my
subconscious needs
something
anything
of which
I should be
afraid
to maintain
equilibrium

I feel neither
here
nor there
but rather
stuck in the
in-between
of certainty
and infinite possibility
only clinging
to the vague
notions of human nature
for comfort

I wonder if in
the far flung
future they'll
look at our poetry
here with the same
regard we had for
cave paintings in
the Chauvet Cave
looking on with
fascination
as we fling words
at the walls of our own caves
trying to make sense
of our individual stories
through art

last night
I dreamt
that I got into
a fistfight
with Copernicus
because
he wouldn't agree
with me that
the universe seems
to revolve around
your smile