I. Thought, Panic, and Prayer


Everything abstract can
be killed
and can kill.
Future, He is
a murderer and Medusa, he
is dread is love is constant.
Self, he
devours and holds and releases, he
      has no/all mutability
      is all we have.
God sees
      ambidirectionally
the absurd clock he designed
the titles of things
     which disguise themselves
             behind titles.

It's combusting
damnittohell and
I can't there is nothing
that won't change my surroundings
mutilate themselves mutilate me just
let me have the wheel the pen I
need to write my own story I
need to transmute a song there is
only me only me only me only
me and God and everyone thing else
is a chain of timebombs
       and a dissonant chord.

Let this,
       O Lord, be
my prayer:
  guide me
to things that will not
     stay,
tie threads to my eyeballs
and stare them at ephemera,
let me care about that which
will not
    affect me should I not let it.
Allow me to live
      Instead of waiting.



II. The Acorn Falls


felt lightning
snowfall
the flowers–they
    Spring needing
to be flourished;
we of houses dismember–
unlearn–
the separations,
smoothen cortices
nuance is lost,
unnecessary.
I am lost,
unnecessary.

Wicks burn everywhere.

I found something that
was not
absurd in my life.
I held it in my palm
skipped it across the river
it made its clothes
clear watery cloaks
and rippled meteorically,
cometically.

It made
unmade
and left my life.