Wednesday, July 4, 2012


I lied to you (as a token of my love

[For you I sprinkled the Sierra Nevadas with crystallized corpses]
[For you I bred with Sasquatch in the Tongats]
[For you I fed the tiny elk rutting in the Kigluaiks])

because I know
in this common mass grave
we call Earth
I’ll never be alone

(heavenly crowds will blot out the darkness, thickening

the light, [oddly reticent and worried {like you}]), writing

against the given grammar, reading

every element of style (correctly [a political statement]), seaming
together (in the light [finding])
post-mortum a reason for life, living
the translation (into mystery [what the soil fed]), groaning
in the (mindful) presence (of something), wondering
about nothing (beyond


There) is something (not [no{thing}])

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