IMMORTALITY

we are all increasingly
surrounded by our own
latency: nothing recedes

once expressed
virtually. we are left
to our own devices,

literally; bereft of
reality, yet hemmed
in by echos

of our own creativity,
our concentric
cults of personality.

BORN ANXIOUS

the initial descent always

begins with aiming the plane

more towards ground than sky,

acknowledging we can't

stay forever

way up high.

millions of flight

miles later

I still find myself

thinking each time, “this is it,

we’re all going to die.”

INDUSTRY

words are for me

buildings full of work

best kept

clear of nature:

no rivers

or deer

encroaching --

just the steel under-

girding of hardened

punctuation, placed

to enforce safety.

i need to be sure how

you'll take me.

MY FRIEND YOUR DEATH (for Jeffrey Nelson)

my friend
your death
makes no sense --
world without

an end to suffering.
let me rest
in your memory

until you become
part of me;
i pray

someone
someday:

please do
the same for me.