i am not a believer,
but there are several
very good
arguments for god

like Jackson Pollock One: Number 31,
the third movement of Beethoven’s
String Quartet No. 15 in A minor, Op. 132
and Joan of Arc

magic mushrooms are another,
so are ants

weaving under low ceilings
deep in the hunt for vibes
we made it to the bluff;
even the muffled voices seem conversational

the night road races crossfade
into the morning construction
meaning it is not the
light that judges sound
but whatever our
weary eyes are used to

dragonflies
mechanical and now ancient

move like drones
through the humid air

hear that fuzz
as you step out
for your daily walk

the sun once again
is a mad broadcast
once again the sky is blue and far away

a bottlecap of birdseed
on the fire escape

a pocket radio
on WKCR

a liquid cat
and a segue machine
surrounding you

the birth,
of wild surrender!

the job’s already done!
there i was
true boots to the ash girder,
when informed.

now i barrel towards the taller water
spinning, holy,
only ever ten seconds away

and the job’s already done!

what burns
but tinder, a journey
from cedar to cinder

which reveals the nature of the world

what feeds the flame
besides that which it isn’t?

just what is it about modernism
that drove everyone crazy?

i’m just trying to have dinner
i’m just trying to walk through the door

but i gotta be the sky
i gotta be the big thicc
that everyone passes through

that everyone builds their homes to forget