this spring harbors all expectations of a world reborn from darkness

he attended to the trumpet and the stand up bass with focus like a lonely needle gently tracing fingerprints across the surface of Saturn’s rings and inhaled the alien transmissions of the guitar as deeply as retrograde grooves in the blackness spinning so when some loudmouth technophile texts the world…

how can you be so close to the Tao and not pay attention to love how can you be just inches from Brahmin but not look up at the dawn how can you plaster billboards with Christ but not think to put down your guns sometimes I just get winded…

Ego says feed me now — tomorrow I will behave and ask nothing more 😈

people are mostly mean because they ignore that they will surely die.

evict the past now no need to wait for orders — manmade calendars.

Now. recede into self, then proceed out slowly to where self is not

half don’t write for lack of will to truth, the rest can’t tell lies well enough.

With the first real snowfall here in Upstate New York and the likelihood that a lot of traditional once-taken-for-granted holiday and winter activities will be skipped or limited this year, I decided to dust off this poem about perspective: As the light descends, a lumination seemingly independent of any celestial…