Epistemic Certainty

 

the city lifts you on a bicycle

and the wind! The wind on your rich lips!

our eyes alight with tempest

your visage now lost to the crowd

 

(penned partially in Zagreb May 2016)

seperated by type and temporality 

 

I’m on vacation”

Why must so much of life be convalescent? What is it that we are all so desperate to recover from? Our childhoods? The weight of the life we’ve built?

Is it not possible to enjoy all of our time in this wildly beautiful world? In what grevious reality must our everyday lives be so dull as for us to desire an escape from them?!

Arching Swaths of Majesty

People like ripples! Like waves!! People as titillating shots of color across the wilds of substance. Moldeable smudges of thick wind. The reason to be. The reason to run. Felted skeins of wet simile. Ship-weary believers. Threaded points of light. Desirous spools of multicolored years. Limp threats of boil, tongues of endive. A heliotropic phrase book. Wizened dream-state prophesies. A wedge of dark soil. An aching pool of unwashed buck-shot. Tuneable shocks. Twistable You.