30thMar. × ’08

On the other side of where you are
there is someplace you want to be
(watch your feet not go straight,
or look up, end up, where you meant).

Some things cannot be compared
(there is too much there where
protons make nebulae eventually)
We cannot choose what to discern,
sentimental bleeds brutal
(we are dots in the world
amidst earthly pixilation)
choosing to not want
it all at once.

But what if we were bewildered always
nighttime crying darkness
morning smiling
all calling
hands flying above
pianoed peace
fingers faintly shaking
eyes averted seeking
where minds go—
that place of no contact
craved and reviled.

In search of somewhere love?
(I should tell you
how my sky breaks
before you make motion in me
know what it’s like waking up from a dream in a dream
fantasy blurred and windy).

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