March 28

Is anyone done navigating
this negative space,
where we say
nothing (which has us…
which will always have us)
is nothing, despite it’s clear
majority in all houses
and congress, where we
call its blackness (which is not
blackness… but a matter of absence) a void?

Can anyone avoid the notion
that our matter,
which we’ve elevated
(as in: being lifted… as in: being
directed) to an act of of intention
(such as buying a cane or a condo
or a spring) such as stepping
out of the way
(the way that can be
spoken is not the way) condones no thing?

We’ve lost, yes? Before we
begin? Before the beginning?
When nothing was just
a good idea. We gave in,
gave everything just
to get here, to clock our time
and punch our ticket.
(What is time? A clock?
A punch? A ticket?) We’ve quit
(remember?) coming together.



A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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