A Stream of Consciousness
I.
you will a die a petite old man, stuffing music in your ears
riding along the edge not knowing when or where it will happen
you know it will but is there any point in anticipating?
your wrinkles, how Being stretches itself
how Being articulates finitude in a body
you’ve lost the words
you’ve left them at bay
The Lighthouse
left hoping
to find them
the light waning in the dark
You laugh but cough
yes, your cough is your laugh
the answer was never clear
but it burned
it had embers that flashed
when you loved her
oh yes, you loved her
you're nothing but a fool now
watching the chair creak
on the front porch
the faucet sink drip,
a leak
oh yes, all of this
but you loved her