i watch words trail out like regurgitated krill, a message held in salt. i don't know anymore what the instructions were.

let there remain enough laughter to carry me out let the words keep rising in search of friends

staring at three letters linear meaning briefly hinged by a centre until the logic fails.

throb, its that call, systole and diastole, of 'oh my god', and 'its ok'.

on a morning of dull steps, the light stroked. lift your eyes from the silt, see how i fill and flow, take good heed, as all things have...

is it a kiss in your open mouth? remembered like air caught in the stream, this beating heart turning over and over.

body into rock, granite grazing skin, weighted, tor on tor, waiting as earth seeps. body into paper, tearing the fold, ghost written,...

messy deeds and messy ends are picked clean, yet in making our distance the seed remains.

hear this? the thrum of the birds above the wheat, trees lacing roots into roots, cars burning up the morning, filaments of plastic...

what other road is there? the grass rises my vertical the clouds muster my horizontal the way links each particulate memory, so i move...

we all carry the magicians suitcase assembling and dissembling fictional universes.