January 2017

olive stone -
a mass surveillance branch
all but snowed in

distemperarmament

ululations of immortality

windy day -
stretching the truth
across clouds

alive - dead
astride a whiplash
of silence

petrichor
a snail practices
our absence

n! = (by
olfactorial equations)
the rose known

eye contact . . .
particles appear smaller
than their wavelengths

the reflections
of an alien species
out of my mind

paper cranes . . .
I bend time and space
a thousand times

inaugural flight
the eagle switches to
autocratic pilot

insomnia . . .
I yawn my way through
some parallel dimension

on a narrow road
to the heart of the moment
before time began

wormhole trip . . .
my shadow and I
splice genes

in becoming the loss of now

good news in the ends of now

fog bound feel for the real

now here in a nick in time

it is here
a vacancy of sky
and now
a bird

ever present –
is this too to be
our pretense?

my shadow
in the shadow
of no-self

forget them
lest these very words
linger on

less of more
the stream entered
more than once

the wind
winds up
a cat

a sea breeze
encrypts messages
from the edge

a lisp
lip thinking
whithpers

before me
a future who's who
of non-being

eye to eye
the bottom line
still there

DT shakes
the cold-turkey of
twitter-feeds

the darkness
of my mood
colours the toast