Tuesday, March 16, 2021

First Heard It When I Turned 13

  

What is left to us really, an
An awkward cotillion in
Hazmat tuxedos? 
It goes without saying,
Gowns --crackle of fabric 
Fills our haunted hall and
All our wishes whisper from
The floor: we can't hear
The music anymore.
Strange to think confusion's
Call and random chance
Left us this ball, this dance.
                                                   

Thursday, February 18, 2021

What Tails Are For

Today's journal entry (to Minnie, who loves cats):

I wish my tail hadn't dropped off some months ago. I wouldn't have to use a cane sometimes.
                     *********************************

(In response to Meems, a much-valued commenter, I'm translating my handwriting into something readable here:
                                    An event
                                Lives through a mind
                               And mind anticipates
                               Events --a cat
                               Waits at the back door.
                               That is balance,
                               What tails are for.
                                

Monday, January 4, 2021

NOT ALL

 

 
Not all possibility is
Simply assembled, but
In motion, colliding,
Sliding, withdrawing,
Eliding, trading orbit
In light, time and chance.
It is a huge dance
Of probability, you see,
And so are we.