everyday I walk around
in an orange sweatshirt
while the helicopter circles
they can see me/I can see
Pasadena Woman Walks
the translucent periodical
on the top stack in my brain
projected like, another cloud
at first he asked for a photoshoot
a second he asked
are you homeless?
it's only been
one week
in my dream Milah (hi)
did Jesus Walks while
the cool
crowd
cooed
and I, drooled
dreaming also of
shelving
and
sleeping longer
the weaker dreams
fizzling fast
* * *
* * *
passage from unknown book via Jake...
Standing off to one side. Seeing only the world
in fragments, there won't be any other one.
Moments, crumbs, fleeting configurations--
no sooner have they come into existence
than they fall to pieces. Life? There's no
such thing; I see lines, planes, and bodies,
and their transformations in time. Time,
meanwhile seems a simple instrument
for the measurement of tiny changes,
a school ruler with a simplified scale--
it's just three points: was is, and will be.
choosing unknown over
knowing
unfair I know
choosing to think about
that school ruler
for at least
the rest of the day
