over dinner

but gumbo tastes so inappropriate as far as words can depict,

walls doors and gardens,

leads can be taken-

interpreted in many different ways but that’s just -


The story starts off once again in traffic. The time is right the time isn’t late its just on time, and its better to be with someone when your alone. -Let them know, we’ll be in shortly.

While all the instincts of dinner can lead to an appetizing experience we, are- still in a rush.

Some new faces, count, one two three, no one else. Three, recognize any of them?

-why is everything so complicated,

the flush of nausea, rushes up within me. dipped in reality

Time says we are all getting older. Stop talking to myself, stop talking to us.

Attention is not held, my attention is focused too much on the experience. Coupling together everyone, plays the part in letting me know the problem is as much this situation as we are in, that contributes to my part in it. Few words describe the unrelenting tap of my foot, the unending unravel-ment of thought that leads us cyclically back to the start, its a loop, has everyone seen the loop?

Don’t say I, don’t say we didn’t tell you don’t mention me, don’t talk- showing signs of weakness, -open to be read, and we are as much me as I.

Arms sitting “indian style” (and they do not say that anymore, and one day writing will be optional) the vibrations lead me to realize my heart is failing my blood flow, it’s in the flow. We all get old one day they will be old and one day- they might not be that young. They might not make it but you still have to watch what you say. My thoughts return to the nausea that causes me to realize the vibrations are driving my blood pressure up.

Does everyone feel this, my hands can’t keep still?

It’s in my arms, my heart and reality is nauseating me- the second floor vibrates

-the speaker is dull and our uninteresting interest is as much a construction as it is a landmark.

-of the uninterrupted uninterpreted? Dipped in reality-
The food taste better and it seems that everyone agrees on-

with the meal, one is provided- the bearer of a burden to which it will draw forth our commands’ of attention, and it’s hard to explain but it is not mandatory even when they tell you it was it should not because it does not matter.

it may concern-

life and death-

jumping out of windows, on TV

it was not a movie, and it was not a show

there- were no actors- no comedians

People- have died from jumping out of windows-

-jump out of a window two stories high

when your young & dumb-

jumped out of a window just for fun-

two hops- a ledge- a swing- a fall-

when we went to school we learned to leave-

the teachers helped us jump

Unclear Transparency

it is unclear how the word travels so fast,

unclear how you wash up on the shores of my home

worlds away with all the seas to sail, my bay is alone

your thoughts are washed up on the shores of my gulf,

and it is, somehow

so clear,

your so far away

the ripples bring your being closer to my feet when the waters are full- with you inside them-

my feet walk me deeper into your seas, while all your words tug at my skin

& the steps into you- are minor details that we are together

were we deep within each others waters

lets walk onto dry land-

lets hold still while we wait-


 -humanity was outside, outside the world was filled with a reality that nauseated my senses. Love had torn me apart, again and again, I was left with the living embodiment of all the people in and out of my life. The wind was blowing me back now and the words were ringing in my head- take me away from here. Sympathy for humanity ,was not far from my grasp and still sadness surrounds me in the dark- take me away from here. Sentiments for others had always been asleep inside me and all I wanted to do was wake them so as to take care of someone else. It was how special and unique my thoughts were to me, in the way showing my caring could be absorbed by others. There was no moral distinction it was a mere principle of reflection, my sentiments for others. The common experience will always be us, it is the evidence that we are alive, and it seems as if though it’s a natural understanding an element of loneliness- and sympathy has my personal merit.

It wasn’t until I felt old that I knew what it was like to be young. Only the lucky get to feel fuzzy headed the young man told the seniors. We all get there and there’s no right and wrong, there is no better- there is only different.


"Sometimes both utility and analogy fail and leave the laws of justice in total uncertainty.”



have you ever scared your self,

taken your limits to meet you and told them how easy you can break them

returning to your grave did you think that you would see your downfall,

think of all the times-

when action took a backseat to responsibility and thought-

this is the death of me- the life for me.

-there’s an analogy, in traffic.