Wednesday, March 30, 2016
I'M FINE
as a kid when it comes
to risk you require
a safety net, soft
limits on damages,
nobody needs to die
just yet. you get
older, hit the hard high
ground of mortality: nobody
lives through this. give me
the car keys, i haven't had enough
to drink, we are all going to
die anyway. hope-
fully not today.
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
FRANTICALLY (for Nick Zeckets)
younger, i was a fort-
builder, hunkered down
in doddering bunkers
made out of blankets and old
boxes; constructing solitude within
which i could imagine myself
the lord of something far
larger, a new world order
absent bed times or neighbor-
hood borders. now i find myself
a desk-dweller, a free-time hoarder,
stuffing novels inside notebooks
frantically
growing older.
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