tiny poems
by scott hess
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
INSOMNIA
there is nothing
that truly holds
us; not the world
or our lovers, not
gravity or even mortality.
loosed we are
born and returned
to the infinity of death's dark
and silent mystery.
PEACE
it matters so
little, we know
better, we still
flounder.
the soul is restless,
it flaunts
and feeds
and we
forget the difference
between
wants and needs.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
THREE LIES TIMES TWO
i think
i am
the world's
greatest
living
poet.
REALLY NOTHING IS
really nothing is
finished. things go
on not to
mention on
and...
(rinse/repeat)
...until we no longer
perceive any-
thing, not
because nothing
exists any-
more, no it's
because we never
really were
anything
to begin
with.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
SAME THING
face it:
you are
mottled
reckless
awkward
and angry.
in other words
perfect
for me.
Monday, September 8, 2008
DISTRACTION
what we want
desperately: to be
somebody
who is an expert at
something, who knows
even a little bit
about anything --
who knows
the right questions or god
forbid, the answers.
(either suffices.)
and so we turn
to hobbies and vices --
where shared compulsion
stands in for purpose
and engagement postpones
identity crisis.
TO BE A PARENT IS TO JOIN A CONTINUUM OF FORGIVENESS
family vacation?
really
more like
family
vacation
or just
family.
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