fiction

/


& this time of night there isn't much to say
head pounds / eyes a burn with midnight

through window & wall / the sound of a plane
5 miles high / & i wonder what it would be like to
be on that plane (it's the red eye dear)





all i can think about is dandelions & how
after the big rain / they reminded me of wet cats



it drives me crazy how this season moves so quickly
& i'm waiting for time to pass / yet i want it to stop
for ever in this / only this moment / as the columbine move in
to full fury of bloom / deepest purples / keenest pinks /
this is what i wish to hold in my hand








alone at last


last night
i slept the deep unconscious
no dreams

nothing
i slipped into
solipsism

dark fine hour of sleep
solstice
of neither here nor there

there is no celestial body
when i'm out cold
only a solitaire soliloquy

the rest is just fiction








/