The wrong pronoun

potent aroma of
coffee fills the
lecture hall and
mingles with the
chatter.  Warm rubs
the atmosphere, Joy
the mind
significant colors and lack
thereof inform us that
we are beautiful.

the style coined by Gertrude Stein

1

Writing it’s like slight movements of the wrist
Parralleled by quakes, quivers, quarks.
From a mound, one of which
Without knowledge collapses dead.
Deflated like a broken heart.

And the Gap lengthens
Over time but neither understand.
Neither comprehend it
Or each other.

2

Ali where are you?
Keep growing, be showing
Your interests posted on your
soul
We know our grabs are in vein
________Blood_________
sniff, pop, twang

Give me my head back
.                yogurt
was my first thought

Like a wrench used as a
bludgeon
To mutate in the name of hate
–trade it for a bratwurst
in the name of futility

3

doubt
picking, no hammering
hammering although nothing
NOTHING
is there.  There is
nothing is there is

and it persists like a
miner who is too young
to know what he is
mining for.

4

shades of grey
remind me there is no color
only people
only this

5

we pass

saturated in ramparts
doused in insecurity
there’s no blanket
like the one that blankets mortality

inamorata

There are little words on this page
in fact there are                        none
Just a leaf
caught by my eye
glazed and polished
I’m tempted to step on it as the crunch seems falsely rewarding.
but in doing so my skin cracks like the desert;
my mouth no longer held aghast                      O
I’m sitting in a crow’s nest with you.

And from it the people look like ants
And you look like Venus

Our organs float in the sky
grounded by an artery
grounded by reality
but reality is our sandbox and we’re digging
a network of tunnels
hoping they meet in the middle

put some on that toast
we don’t need it, we all like                                grass
like bread
we all need to be fed
eyes stretch over and under and through                                 grasp
never online we grasp, grasp
lets grasp