+++
berries in the breeze-
shaken. soft, quiet wonder.
life lived in warm red.
+++
We have to keep digging
ourselves into this hole
because if we don't
the terrorists will know
we're afraid
of burying ourselves alive.
Reach
The smallest
catastrophe is
unreason unleashed,
the tumultuous
overflow with
barriers breached,
no obvious
solutions in
sight, in sound,
in speech-
what then, compels us
beyond our mother's
reach?
+++
Apathy
The trapdoor of complacency
is built below each home.
In wayward turns we meet it,
fall in as we greet it,
allow it to show us
how much more
"there is no urgency"
fits the verse of our lives.
Apathy is a word
with plenty of time,
all the while lulling
us to sleep, to personal hells
in the everlong drop to
the most indifferent depths
of ourselves.
+++
Hope
A madness of
this magnitude
demands a love
of great altitude.
+++
Meditations on fruit, absurdity, courage, and procrastination. Add thoughts or insta-poetry if desired.