the sound is of a baby gently sleeping

the smell is roughly the same

but then something crashes horribly wrong

the pure is slammed against the pungent

duality remains; nothing combines

it is everything observed in a strangely clear vision

and the blunt details quickly forgotten

buses roar down a wet Tenth Avenue

a small statute of a woman sits silently on a kitchen counter,

prone, hands on lap gazing into the hazy blue

off-to-school morning light

you make breakfast lunch and dinner

you make what you can make | while they are sleeping

make the beds

make lives move

yours is hanging

a silent Wednesday afternoon snow storm

confusion | disorientation

flat white light illuminates

whose ideas are whose

values confused | botox abused

a new aesthetic required

shiny happy ladies calling

no one is home

they move on; it all moves on. without. you.

the drought now known

paralysis, your own

you drive uptown

drive downtown

up again, down again; it is only three in the afternoon

when did people stop (using their hearts)?

you make sand castles with little people

lose; remember; forget; begin again. pause.

think ‘one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish’.

life.  again + again + again.

the Summer sun warms your face and hair

a moment of bliss in your once lovely hand

large things not remembered

entropy enjoyed

was I supposed to jump? On. Again.

all around you such exquisite beauty grows

wild, like weeds

you feed it

love it

smother it

lipstick won’t hide the stains of void

you are waiting