the theft of her face

when the things we want
collide with the duties we have
the things we want must be stolen.

some call that sacrifice. choices
that are preclusions are not chosen.

in my ontology life is about learning.
lessons, facts, exceptions
to the rules. i keep trying to make
the exceptions be my rule. but it never
works out that way. the pattern remains
led zepplin.  perhaps those that want
to blow out are correct. to lose these lives
this certainty, this beauty of being
to forget the struggle.



the newspaper told a common story
the woman who disappeared inside her home.
no one knew for 2 years. how sad, how  lonely
her final breaths. a little sparrow said we all die
alone. this is the last mystery, the lasting one.


i think she chose to do this
because she understood her fraility
was her strength. the manic who hurts
and the depressive who kills. joy, light, hope
too lovely to bear. "i wanted to destroy
something beautiful". become kali for a minute.
the only thing you can kill, in the final analysis
is yourself. it's all you, baybe. be.













*(&





well, yeah. so you're dead.
now what? make a new pattern?
you probably won't. i mean, these
tables we've built these chairs
these passages thru the aether
seem so solid that they are.

come back to this. come home.
if you blow out, certainly
you will recycle into the now again.
water is neither created nor destroyed
just poisoned and dispersed.

you say it all happens at the same time
and it's true, there is only now. ness.

i can tell i'm stoned. when i talk to the you
sometimes it's me,and sometimes it's you.
this is how existence becomes chronomic.


except for the last month?
you are a fond memory.

















(*)&&&












today i will drive ashton to mayaka.
on the way i will stop at the beach
and take a swim in the mouth of the bay.
leona will be with me as well.

the joy of children. even exasperating ones.
which leona is not. she's   willful but   smart.
who was she in a different life?

before i go i will wash the porch
now that the 5 monitors, 3 keyboards,
an extra hard drive and 2 shells have been
properly recycled. i will mow the yard.
then i deserve the beauty of the water.

how fucked up is that? that in this universe
we have to earn our way or we don't really
appreciate it. gifts are not honored, they are expected
and devalued. what a mess we have here.
surely we can make some other type of life?























*(&



it's all in the perception i spose.
i percieve a dream that becomes reality.
you know the roles, you can believe them
because they are you. what you desire
can be a reality only if you do not split your
alliegences. this is not possible in our vessels.
of course you can keep up the search
for a way to transmute yourself.
it's an amusing passtime. and you have
accomplished this so many other times.
you're doing it right now, as we live.













(*&







i laugh at myself with my certainties.
but jeeze i've seen this movie before.
it always ends the same.
i keep hoping for a rewrite.
some way to add eyebrows
or a flash of teeth and have it be
as captivating. but once it was in my possesion
i could not deface her. i couldn't
bring myself to change a thing about her.
she was so  perfect in her imperfections
an immortal reality perched on
my easel smiling at the joke
no one ever tells.