poems: april 1 - 24, 2019

Event 1: nighttime, walking around old town

we’re losing you, see

you decided to go off on your own

and finding your way without any help

and look at where you are now

the american goes into a world and has an experience

somehow trembling with magnificence and awe

an opinion, perhaps

shining with subjectivity

forgetting their subject is less of an I

and more of a fragment, occasionally making sense

going forward, headlong-blind

into the shining shit with wild abandon

who are your neighbors? 

have you forgotten?

inside, disorganized

in through: 

struggling under the yellowish light

in the twilight of your assuredness

no grounding

headless and frozen

Event 2: black, abstraction, glacial movement


some animated exchange of forces

an indecision or two

inadequate means to complete

—not potential, but present

lacking in community, sometimes but not always

having to wipe the countertop once again


considering the circle, the sphere, the torus:

—what is their presence?

—what does one see traveling along their surface?

—what is hidden and what is revealed?


we were hiding from the wind in a cafe on the clark street side of the square

i was hiding from the boss at the dunkin donuts across the street from the shop

we were hiding from punctuality in the bakery near the train station

i was listening to the water through the cellar door with the storm outside

they were wishing for time to not be measured

traveling through the day—on the clock

reveries of movement

changing through the seasons

time of the body

the worn gears of capital, finally settling

breath returning to the body


i will remember there

spacious, the hole of the wheel


light, we exit


Event 3: dust, red sun, evening in a parallel world (in response to Cosimo Pori’s reflection on The Vessel)



wrong elevator: took me to the second floor

—could not take me to the first, interestingly

a stranger joined me

elevator—again—took us to the wrong floor


i tried to get to the right platform later that night, but couldn’t navigate

it is almost like it was designed to be illogical

one side without access to the other

the other complex beyond necessity


before the doors open in the morning—


a public without access to essential services

in the middle of the city park taking a shit in the bush

another in line at the emergency room door, perhaps

‘make em wait’


the subway, once again, delayed

tracks on fire


have to move, again



then, around the corner—closer than one’d think

searching for crumbs outside of the restaurant

huddling away from the wind


off the street

on the other side of the door:

the steak is too dry

a hair in the pasta

wrong drink



i was born on the date september fourteenth nineteen-ninety-four

and nonetheless some people were also born on that day

—before and after, in fact—

and today as i am writing this people still continue to be born and what not


and in placing faith in science and reason

—which we all must do—

the world we live on will die someday

subsumed into the broader collapse of an unstable, fragmented universe

this is simply—with our current knowledge—not a matter of belief

—it is a truth as far as current reason is concerned


as for civilization:

this is a wholly different matter


when i woke up when i was born

i joined everyone else here

eating, shitting, and sleeping

i learned history

listened to my parents

didn’t go on vacation

made some friends


we are responsible for what we do in the end—

not we as a bunch of “I’s”

but we as the one and final “we”



ownership is not a natural condition

valuable is not beautiful

individuality is not freedom

popularity is not community

spectacle is not progress


not to say progress is illusory—

we have certain responsibilities to each other, after all

despite who says otherwise—


when climbing those many stairs

through our days

into that final sunset overlooking the water

we will all decide—together

if we want to charge admission or not