What matters here doesn’t matter there

 What matters there doesn’t matter here 

Many Things Make Me Question Many Things

David, but it’s not always why

Years flying by and moments that linger

All manner of circles and spirals that hide among them

Directions on all fronts

Every useful false binary and the relationships between truth, facts, utility, information, more generally

Do we call it an economy?

We will always be back then?

But I am here and then (now) you are here.

Many words have many meanings all around your feet.

My hands are stained, there’s still that, and I prefer bar soap in a shower, but have only the slightest preference in other settings.

Remember Lava?

Like, Where do these things go, and what does it mean to me? I mean for me? Or I mean that, too.

Like lead and  read and tear.

And like stew, and hew, and steer.

Flood the Zone (Again)

Heavy trails mixed with trials

Simple shapes like spheres and cones

One reign follows another

The thing about a metronome

Comfort food, arithmetic, working the stops

The weather is up and down

These signs mean something to somebody somewhere

Carrion Bird

On on on on

On off on on

The swelling a sign

The signal a progress

Off on on on

Far from home again with the precipitation

Buying being bringing among

The filling and then the filing then the forever

Off off off off

You’re on and then you’re going

Suddenly follows perception

This container again

This gravity

And finally this willingness

The Fingers Move in the Light

What you hide, I now know

Fall forward, again, and mark your consequences

The light flashing in the corner of your vision

The long dark road, the shifting borders

Field after field after field and once more with the lights

This is the sunrise that will become a memory

This is dew on the exposed skin of your forearms, inside your elbow

You know the smell and you know what it’s like for the possible to be sitting right in front of you in a smart get up

What will tomorrow taste like after all the stitches

Books Are Dangerous (Sonnets Are Dangerous)

AI is dangerous

The Internet is dangerous

Isolation is dangerous

Dynamite is dangerous

Bears are dangerous

Kitchens are dangerous

Mobs are dangerous

Stairs are dangerous

Tylenol is dangerous 

Ungrounded outlets are dangerous

Driving is dangerous

Ideas are dangerous

The sky is dangerous
The sky is dangerous

The Many Decline

On deck or overboard it gets dark early this time of year

Develop, develop, develop, develop

The wasteful won’t inherit jack in this gothic romance

And a silhouette and a promontory and weather.

Retire to the fire and think about a better future

Like train travel and a green economy

We can share.

Forever-ever

Like so many things before me, take this bread, December 12th

Forgetting today, forging next generation alloys, and nothing ever done but with allies 

Like various symmetries or a wheel spinning or all the piece lining up on the metaphorical board

Like cake, like cookies, like the last days of your last years

Two houses jammed together to make a bigger house

As porch is to galley is to deck is to roof deck

So back is to back is to back is to back

Like a truck or a train, but so very far in the future

But I’ve gotta say, I know your friends. I’ve met your friends. I’m cool with your friends.

I still have so many pets and so many snacks and a roof over my head.

I don’t know where we’re taking this thing we call life.

Let’s keep breathing though, and let’s keep our eyes to the sky.

In Baltimore there’s a radio picking up a faint signal

Signaling which why is gonna matter most this year.

Just Keep On Digging

It Comes Before the Question

Is there really a finest goldsmith in any age?

We find ourselves smack in the middle of the Season of the Word of the Year and so many of its brethren,

And while we’re ok on split wood for a while, there’s not enough to last the Winter.

Tomorrow I’ll be back to work.

Meanwhile you’re focused on stretches and taking care of things.

You’re love of architecture is infectious,

And you have so many things to share.

These are the last moments we’ll spend together and we both know it.

Once upon a time all gulfs were uncrossable.

Nobody had a taste for looking back and the plants just kept on growing.

Someone invented the word ford and someone else made great boats and some other someone still was good at bridges.

This is the time that just keeps going.

When I hold up my hand, how many fingers do you see?

Write it down and remember me.

Oh What (Interrupted Sonnet)

Early December in the midst of borrowed conventions

Some would say focus, others would motion to an equidistance 

Forget everything you

Don’t Go

Peel it away

I mean the sounds in the night

Prancing need not be ladylike

Heavy fanning and cold days coming

This is what I remember

Racing across a casino floor with every care in every world

You count what you’ll count and I’ll stand by

This whistle, that siren, that four on that floor

Where’ve you gone? Where’re you now?

How will we get our mouth around it? When will we put all the good back in?

This is about dirt and dust

This is about trajectories and everything after

This is a myth and this is the telling of a myth

When becoming is done, this is what we are