at 2 am I turn out the light
and my body vanishes
my mind is an ember
dim, pulsing
I'm solving, searching
the 1,2,3 of it
percolating a theory
about the beginning
the adamneve of it
I jumble all I've learned
I don't want to be touched
an ember on the pillow
I roll it around
the imperialist core
the bad apple
my bitter neighbor
the relentless wind
I revise my diary
vanity's scribblings
a man's voice floats
up from the park
singing, raving
he's all around us
reverberating in the alley
I register him as a part of me
roaming, reeling
then resting a while
on may day, a diagram
of relationships
extraction and empire
I'm certain
I've learned something
but I wake up
at the beginning
seeking a sunspot
to turn to stone in
a river to merge with
a tree to grow
around me
