FROZEN

i like to think
some of the early moves
were only empty
gestures:

the hair, the clothes,
squinting and the not
caring were all
poses.

thing is after a while
your parents were right:
your face
and your soul
are frozen

like that.

LIFE IS PAIN

from the body rock
to the body rots --

chest pains
could be my heart
or maybe the feeling as youth
departs.

my friend the doctor,
he says:

stay calm,

pain comes
and pain goes
away.

you are not going to
die today.

NO QUESTION

an audience of one or
more
here for
me
is a luxury.

an audience of none or
less is more
a prayer
said here
by me for
me.

if solitary
is more holy
why does it feel so god-

damn lonely.

NAUGHT

i've thought myself
dead enough
and been rebuffed
by doctors and loved ones
not ready to find
foreboding in each bump or spot

that i almost forgot

one of these days
will be the last
i've got.

BOXED

monday comes the demolition:

destruction always pre-
cedes creativity,
at least

that's what
the contractor told me.

and so here
i am boxing up
rooms too full
of boxes left over
from the last time.

after all
what is
worth saving?

already
memory and poetry
have carved symmetry
where once was
just life
lived, boxed
energy
into words
never meant to be heard.

color my labors
absurd, but
monday comes the demolition.

GET A HOBBY

you want to
save your life
or preserve what is
left of your sanity

don't meditate
on your humanity.

REALLY HERE

that nothing
i do or am
will
persist

begs questions:

how do i
know i
exist

and will i
be missed?