as I write with one foot
stuck in dark mud the other

unresponsive for reasons
I can’t discover lights

flicker throughout the day I’m
more full of fewer thoughts with

air enough for me to ascend
the brilliant sharp mountain

I have kept my pockets empty for
I have kept my back straight against through

years of small work and I
see the check on its way

before I’ve ordered it’s my fault
I should have gotten here as soon as

the neighbors finished dancing
on our ceiling and the sky

changed to business casual blue so with
my knuckles sore I crack another nut

but what if one thought survives
somehow the pressure of space

as the small stones crawl from the sea
wall after the grey is gone

and we work into the overhyped
night sponsored by what you would rather

remember a castle visited
through a dream that always asks too much

who birthed
a stone
through cries
picked it
up kiss
kiss put
it down
this white
page still
hates me
no that’s
all the
great sea
stop that
the night
for what
was his
name John
he have
a big
car and
I’m wrong
who walk
by my
why do
they breathe
so close
to me
so pick
up the
white page
try to
the names
the heat

shopping with my eyes closed and the fist but there is still space for a three point turn the car alarms deep into a special night when the landing was postponed sure every other day is a fine place to start but I know you’ve already tried and for all the good it did I may as well have had decaf but there are the inconsequential moves we make that turn heavy when it wears off and of course I have to admit that these lullabies are lovely so many things to click before retiring with that same headache under the same lonely star

What solar-powered syntax will break through the city’s thick walls later wielding a heavy pen he stumbles never to blink again

But the pen won’t start so the precious possibility with a suitcase secretly packed disappears beyond the hill

Where the music comes from on those nights though despite his best attempts we left feeling as though we hadn’t eaten at all