It hurts to think God doesn’t
love her dangling dainty pale
feet in life’s silvery flow flowing
like a wingy compressing air... more »
When the trumpets blow,
I will see her, the angel Evelyn,
lifted on a cloud,
air-jet transporting her... more »
Emily Dickinson is Jewish and hides in an attic.
Restriction and Emily’s selective nomadic soul breed
Speculation. She misses bees, frogs, familiar sovereign woods.
She squints at dust, the ...... more »
You’re heading true north
but truth is elusive, useless
even. Incorporeal monads
have soul. Corporeal monads
got it rough. And I think therefore
divides man and beast merely.
After that it’s a free-for-all.
The roots of monasticism,
I learned last night, are in
plain sight, mono, one body
being ample for a lifetime.
In six days you will be
dust (or not) , perspective
being everything and a bias.
In six days in your eyes
the shebang: a speck approaching or
receding. Happy birthday.