You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.
Simple: naïve / milkweed / that which only seeks to tend its own garden / look at him all cool as a cucumber, and what have you gotten yourself into, little creature?
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
You find laps that sheltered you and the same bosoms nursed you, although he eats from the dish of lentils and what must be eaten unsalted.
CHILDHOOD IS SOMETHING ELSE.
a type of speech
MINUTIAE
Recently you saw a wild plant growing on her grave.
[it’s real when they say it]
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
“And how, from there, from that edge, that muffled yell, that tumbled childhood, can a kingdom spread?”
Death can’t hold the ghosts, of the living.
from the same arm of the scales
You satiate childhood with fables of fountains
“No one’s going to find you here if you don’t make noise, not even the one you make when you suck in your boogers.”
it’s not a game. It’s the last time he’ll let us in late.
She confessed that she was your real mother, but she was so young that she surrendered you for her older sister to raise. In her account, at least your father was the same.
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
Recently you saw a wild plant growing on her grave.
You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.
CHILDHOOD IS SOMETHING ELSE.
a type of speech
MINUTIAE
Simple: naïve / milkweed / that which only seeks to tend its own garden / look at him all cool as a cucumber, and what have you gotten yourself into, little creature?
[it’s real when they say it]
Death can’t hold the ghosts, of the living.
from the same arm of the scales
You satiate childhood with fables of fountains
You find laps that sheltered you and the same bosoms nursed you, although he eats from the dish of lentils and what must be eaten unsalted.
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
“And how, from there, from that edge, that muffled yell, that tumbled childhood, can a kingdom spread?”
“No one’s going to find you here if you don’t make noise, not even the one you make when you suck in your boogers.”
it’s not a game. It’s the last time he’ll let us in late.
It couldn’t be found because he took it with him.
She confessed that she was your real mother, but she was so young that she surrendered you for her older sister to raise. In her account, at least your father was the same.
returning to the garden in the evening
shouting ready or not
and waiting twenty years to say
olly olly oxen free
I don’t give
I ask him
like the lord
who has taken away
the lord has taken away
One moment of silence.
A subtle glimmer in the jasmine. A word,
its texture.
but what if she comes one day and you’re gone?
Lullaby: low, slow song for soothing to sleep. Adult: differential position / insomnia. Jasmine: in Sufi aromatherapy, a bond-strengthening essence. Creature: living thing / product: of man’s imagination, generally fantastical in nature.
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
Recently you saw a wild plant growing on her grave.
[it’s real when they say it]
You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.
CHILDHOOD IS SOMETHING ELSE.
a type of speech
MINUTIAE
Death can’t hold the ghosts, of the living.
from the same arm of the scales
You satiate childhood with fables of fountains
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
It couldn’t be found because he took it with him.
returning to the garden in the evening
shouting ready or not
and waiting twenty years to say
olly olly oxen free
One moment of silence.
Simple: naïve / milkweed / that which only seeks to tend its own garden / look at him all cool as a cucumber, and what have you gotten yourself into, little creature?
“No one’s going to find you here if you don’t make noise, not even the one you make when you suck in your boogers.”
it’s not a game. It’s the last time he’ll let us in late.
She confessed that she was your real mother, but she was so young that she surrendered you for her older sister to raise. In her account, at least your father was the same.
Lullaby: low, slow song for soothing to sleep. Adult: differential position / insomnia. Jasmine: in Sufi aromatherapy, a bond-strengthening essence. Creature: living thing / product: of man’s imagination, generally fantastical in nature.
You find laps that sheltered you and the same bosoms nursed you, although he eats from the dish of lentils and what must be eaten unsalted.
I don’t give
I ask him
like the lord
who has taken away
the lord has taken away
A subtle glimmer in the jasmine. A word,
its texture.
but what if she comes one day and you’re gone?
Recently you saw a wild plant growing on her grave.
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
[it’s real when they say it]
You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.
CHILDHOOD IS SOMETHING ELSE.
a type of speech
MINUTIAE
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
Death can’t hold the ghosts, of the living.
“No one’s going to find you here if you don’t make noise, not even the one you make when you suck in your boogers.”
it’s not a game. It’s the last time he’ll let us in late.
Simple: naïve / milkweed / that which only seeks to tend its own garden / look at him all cool as a cucumber, and what have you gotten yourself into, little creature?
Recently you saw a wild plant growing on her grave.
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
[it’s real when they say it]
You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.
CHILDHOOD IS SOMETHING ELSE.
a type of speech
MINUTIAE
Death can’t hold the ghosts, of the living.
from the same arm of the scales
You satiate childhood with fables of fountains
Simple: naïve / milkweed / that which only seeks to tend its own garden / look at him all cool as a cucumber, and what have you gotten yourself into, little creature?
It couldn’t be found because he took it with him.
You find laps that sheltered you and the same bosoms nursed you, although he eats from the dish of lentils and what must be eaten unsalted.
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
returning to the garden in the evening
shouting ready or not
and waiting twenty years to say
olly olly oxen free
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.
Simple: naïve / milkweed / that which only seeks to tend its own garden / look at him all cool as a cucumber, and what have you gotten yourself into, little creature?
CHILDHOOD IS SOMETHING ELSE.
a type of speech
MINUTIAE
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
Recently you saw a wild plant growing on her grave.
[it’s real when they say it]
Death can’t hold the ghosts, of the living.
“No one’s going to find you here if you don’t make noise, not even the one you make when you suck in your boogers.”
from the same arm of the scales
You satiate childhood with fables of fountains
It couldn’t be found because he took it with him.
returning to the garden in the evening
shouting ready or not
and waiting twenty years to say
olly olly oxen free
it’s not a game. It’s the last time he’ll let us in late.
visualize the voice of thought.
think the image of the voice.
provoke destiny. play.
from chance, from the sigh.
understand the force that links
the image to the name.
the name is an image.
the image is a verb.
play. nothing is chance.
destiny is a game.
everything is destiny.
—