With moral north poles pointing everywhere
I instead choose to fold inward along the
outline of every petal of my being.
© Chagall ∞
Tag Archive: life
Exhaustion is a rollup shade,
comes down over inner light
to cast shadows that run too
deep, bluer than cold black.
Oddly, since I can see that
I am invigorated, renewed. I
am outside of the physical
debris; I am beyond the miasma.
© Chagall ∞
She asked if I would please come down from the parade,
home from the water where hope flows slower than time,
back to where it all began to all begin, to be all in
one final moment momentarily lapsed. And each passing
day is a cedilla underscoring existence like LaFaro’s
thick bass one summer under Evans at the Vanguard.
Apart from all living things, everyone is fine,
at least that’s what they tell me. I get lost in my
search and then look for a way to return to the search
above me; sky is potentially below so to fall is to fly.
© Chagall ∞
It’s a singular frame of view
for a universe of points of
view that are merely bags of
shells strewn on your beach
in front of your cabana while
you lounge there marveling at
the beautiful contours of each
of your feet, your’s and her’s.
© Chagall ∞
Everyday I write
a novel backwards.
© Chagall ∞
Addiction: wanting it whether one has it or not.
Compulsion: aching for it when one has it; caring
less when one does not.
© Chagall ∞
I distinguish clearly
my addictions from my compulsions.
© Chagall ∞
Looking for bandaids
today I found her
old shampoo. I added
water beads and shook
the bottle, then I showered
and lathered. I am no longer
in the now but am back
to an earlier day when
she was still here. Aroma
is a time machine.
© Chagall ∞
In the space there between slipped fingertips
whorls of sound explode into bursts of light
© Chagall ∞
Ants traverse freely
Leaves curled into Escher curves
Endlessly nowhere
© Chagall ∞
Alphabet City 