Meaning
The Purpose
The dewdrops
A morning Sun

Being
Elbows tucked in
Hands pressed
Eyes closed

I’m here

I’m tired
All vitals on high alert
My homeland on fire
Work’s a curse
What the fuck?

Doing a thing
Joy has left the building
Sleep is worse
How the fuck?

Depression, my friend
I didn’t miss you
I’d forgotten your sting

Welcome back, asshole.

When perfect symmetry is something, then disarray is another thing.
I wonder in wonder as if another, sneaking under no volition.

I wonder if you are who you are,
do you see another?

Swinging monkeys prancing by the car, mental sonars flinging far.

How does sense make sense in a nonsensical galaxy?

Random dog walks and random sniffs.
Cat scratches on a random skiff, a mind
turned on its bed head.

Where the hell have they been?
Those wild suspicions, perfect monkeys,
eating plantains for brunch,
dancing trepidatiously on a hunch?

Who the hell are we?
Random masses of disposable jelly…
Making someone jelly with a second glance, or a dance?

Or, are we an illumination?
A flickering glow light ready to jump!
Ready to fly like a campfire spark.
A serendipitous wind stream flying by to rest.

What we need is a paradox
To know we’ll live
With something to give
Forever

To know
Never let go
Never hold on
As we’re meant to be

A fall leaf
It’s majestic red
It’s burnt orange
It’s winter

The infinite cycle
Encircling End
Let’s Begin
Live, green, red, dead

Not a second thought
For a second
That’s how it is
Our infinite biz