empty cup

had a mouthful
of dirt, a handful
of promises, a headful
of no.

what's left to understand?
silence is its own reward.

i dreamed of you this morning
applying where you work
to what i wanted. then the ocean
washed up over the sand outside
your motel room. or it may have
been my dad's. anyway, a bunch of shoes
came unearthed. i chose several pairs
some of them with heels. you

were taking care to not be seen
in my direction. still, afterwards
there you were, wondering how
to get out of this mess. i wanted

to let you go. gave you keys
directions. you wouldn't leave
but you wouldn't stay. i offered
you a pair of shoes. lay under
the tightrope strung under a tent
where you taught some woman
how to fall into a padded
container by shaking the rope
you both stood on.
then you let a baby drop i can't
understand why she would be up there
so high and unprotected or why
you weren't concerned when she fell
not onto the mat but onto the cold
hard dirt floor beside me
but i picked her up and she didn't cry
even when her knocked out breath,came back.




()*(*&&&


we don;t get all the hours we need in reality.
only one minute of sleep for every five. relativity
is beginning to crack. the altering of the curve
as einstein throws dice with god, gleeful
and allelujah. thinking of the properties
of angels, conflagration in the santa anna winds
signs melting in the streets streets melting
into rivers of tar. that's so far away. our
disasters will be different. learning as evolution
market survey combines with collective floating
intelligence. tune in drop out. what if they gave
a war and nobody came. but instead they gave a war
and everyone came. cuz of the bonus. watching
the place burn we still have hope but watching pomeii
explode i think hope will finally be flames.