the final frontier

what incredible space, we say

then fill it up with bits n bobs

that bang our knees 

Memoria

 Wearing a t-shirt and shorts. Sitting on a (wood) step, bare feet on hot concrete, sun on my face, wind a bit chilly, drinking a mildly cool coke from a green glass bottle. It was maybe ‘77 or ‘78.  I was 7 or 8 at my grandparents house. The world was simple. I still do this. My drink may be different, the scenery different. But the sun…always there for me.

two to too

I

If a thing didn’t bother me before I knew it, 

why should it bother me now I know it?

II

in limbo sweetly

she presses painfully

into me as she sleeps 

III

yerp

Shaka when the walls fell

Gilgamesh on the mountain 

Gilgamesh by the sea

is this a haiku? I think it’s a haiku…

the things I have thought 

brought of importance are not 

what I’m taking home 

wringer

on the verge of tearing 

constantly while sitting with pain

I begin to understand

craving for a thing I will not touch