poetry

Reflection

The inconstant queen
relents her reign,
begins to cloak
illumined face
in shadow yet again,

an ever creeping
shadow deep’ning
darkest of dark nights
when face is hid
from all the world
and all celestial lights,

till she begins
to lift full veil
and once more deigns
to claim her rule,
mutable mind
marking months since
time immemorial.

Tap Out

I wake up, tap my phone to snooze,
tap for weather, then for news,
I tap my coffee maker then
while eating breakfast tap again
to book an afternoon massage.
I tap to shop, I tap to order,
tap for which work route is shorter,
tap just five more times to get
my Tesla from my closed garage.

At the subway station tap
to pay to park until I’m back,
tap my

Fall Scenes
IV.

Sharp crunch of acorns cracking
underfoot on path we’re walking
calls to mind the sounds of crackling
kindling in the winter
that’s coming, but we try avoiding
speaking it as rather we would
take our leisure by enjoying
color-filled, crisp saunter.

One Mediator

To check on future stocks and weather,
bring your sacrifice so meager
of attention (all you have).
Obsequious, you bow your head
for what you will consume,
a bounty’s set before you
as your gracious mediator
gives you much more
than you want
for yet another day.
Your phone a mediator turned
into a prophet, priest, and king,
if you will.

in the age of externality
no one gives a damn
all upstream remains hidden
we don’t look e’en if we can
things are much easier that way
in our age of externality
where we’re taught to just accept
that slaves build all our goods
and young consumers are bereft
of their young ages
due to externality
that’s just the way it has to be
if we want toys and phones and

While walking a cobblestone street yesterday
I happened to glance up just in time
to see a wonderous thing, a thing I’d say
was miraculous, even divine.

Above the gas lamp post hung in the air
a single brown leaf, unbothered, unmoving,
and my thought as transfixed I stood there
was the power its stolid behavior was proving:

a resistance of gravity, wind,

O Vapor of vapors,
just how long do you think
you have before you
find your faint edges fading
into the ether averaged
from so many others
in the Brownian motion
of verbal exchange?

How long can a borderless,
tasteless, odorless, waste of
cloud last when met with
the constant gale of Time
so practiced and masterful
at exhaustive dispersion?

You begin
to exhale

the young white male
might be as well
the old white whale
scarred and virile
ever out of reach
no matter how each
hunts him

already seen too much
and cast as such
a beast so evil
that he shouldn’t be so
bitter he’s left no rung
for a life with anyone
that loves him

no scholarships
or jobs programs
to safely pull him
back to land,
keeps exploring
murky depths
while