The providence of light
honors the appetite of all things seen
knows the curvature of space
from the choreography of the red-shifted, to
the bent lamplight of the inner lanes.

In the headlights, opened eyes
a latent disorder is caught deer-sighted
and joining, we work the tantra of an
off-world insight, seeing in the rearview
landmarks, clutch-holds, and signifiers.

Hello, host of house-haunting neuroses
I so want to be gentle with you
the troublemakers who cast shadow puppets
onto appetites that are themselves shadows
in light that I myself provide.

Self Adhesive

I look to make minor improvements
In the way I remember my life
And select very carefully the things
I bother to remember at all

Always endeavoring to be the best
Person I can remember being

Patching up the gaffes and goofs
As they appear (if they even dare to)
And doing a damn fine job of it too
If memory serves

Fine Print

you mark me strange
and I don’t think I like you
but you’re not the mast
on this foundering ship

tightly lashed to nothing
I plunge to depths, or mutiny
it’s nothing to you

and it’s in the fine print
of my public face
that I reserve the right
to stow away the freshest
of what sanity remains

for later, for someone else