From Here to There

Ears burn inside.
Trying to heal.
My head frets,
Like a dry guitar,
“What’s it like getting old?”

Fat puddles in the mirror.
Ugly? I don’t know.
Pretty is as
pretty rare, really.

There it is.
90 seconds closer.
I never knew my clock
could do that.

Phone clock.
Phone game.
Phone everything.

The phone, the phone, the phone.


“Tired of the big bill?”
They ask.
“Tired of all your bullshit!”

Tired of the fight.
It’s a tired fight.
Fight or flight?

Tired of them!

Them, them, them!
(Crazy ass brazen liars!) THEM!
Fear them! No, THEM!
What might they do next?

Tired of my rubber neck
sprained to the latterly
hateful view.

Why should I care?
The skies are blue.
and the tree in the distance


A pine trie,
Elfin hands,
Seeing me.

“Hellow,” says he.

“Hello. I see you;
Yes, I’m blest to see you,”
I smile.

“Say hello to the one below.”

White Goddess’
petals whisper a
gambol on the breeze.


“Hellow, if you please.”

“Ah, whee! White butterfly,
All flaw away
When she spake.”

She spoke.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.