again
i fish for meaning
like an unknown hand fishing for coin
like an underdressed youth fishing for praise
like an overburdened housewife fishing for identity

and again
i find only barren waters
as a desert finds life
as a war finds beauty
as a room finds completion

Again...

Streaming language from afar, streaming into my eyes
Excited like a little child, redundant like a little child

Sitting now, in futures played out once twice...
We've felt this before, you and I. We know this dance well
Language overflowing into my eyes, into my mouth, all consuming and it is not mine to ingest

Forward motion stop. Forward motion stop. Forward motion stop.
How do you not get tired, of being so omnipresent?
When did this crown appear on your head? I had thought it gone...
perhaps it did leave, for a moment, when you felt serene. When you felt vulnerable.

Clenching fists in air, fists in the air
Tired, drained, now too tired, too drained
to feel like rationalizing obscure signals that seem to threaten pattern
weary, small, fragile
is this space we damply occupy

Fascinating... isn't it? This life,


You've received news, and of that I am glad. News, of a positive nature, news
of new beginnings and complimentary essentials. Beautiful statements, exciting purpose,
news of a vocation much adored at the onset.
Wonderful, magnificent, couldn't be happier. Makes you happy. Beginnings in place, object in mind, context of superiors and coworkers, context of framing and potential from within and anticipatory forward motion. Makes you happy. Makes me happy.

I, too, have news. It's old news, but news. I am to leave tomorrow for a journey. Tumultuous beginnings, uncertain progress, but it has arrived.
I've noticed, you've not inquired as to particulars. You don't know how I'm feeling; if I'm excited, sad, anxious.
You don't know when I land, where I'm staying, with whom I will spend my time in this ambiguous introductory solitude.
You don't know why I'm going, what I will look for there, what I will hope to see there.
You don't know a thing about my 'news'.

But you are very very adept at inquiring how I am doing at a particular offhand moment in time.

Edinburgh

Tonight, as all nights,
these rambling paths beckon with Cheshire grins
nobbling teeth echo sounds of
public transportation in a forgotten age
laughter from afar carries with
delicate intentionality; a beautiful dream
in trancelike unity of sound and perfect shadow
orange orbs submit,
their mists pull back the time
to reveal presence, mystical presence
facades drawing the eye away away to providence

across
more stones
smaller now, but beautiful
endlessly speaking of love enough to recall
or perhaps status, obligation
some don't divulge, their faces long lost
to nature and
good-natured apathy
it's quiet here; silence becomes of the space
between, atop, around
implicit solitude
becoming one
the quiet sigh
a cool wind
the gone, the now, the tomorrow
subsumed in the gesture
a tree clawing
through
a stone wall
only to die on the other side
where it belonged