Some dogs eat scraps

Like it was fine dining

Happy in their self-deception

Failing to see

That stealing shreds of joy

Elevates nothing

In their dumpster life

As they choke on bones

Dying in the gutter

With a smile on their face

Here i am

Where I belong

Ready

I am concrete

Time hardened

Everlasting

Commitment

Set in stone

the only thing
more terrifying than death
is life
and if you can survive that shit
you can survive anything

There are Coyotes

Mourning the death of night

I hear them crying

Wailing in the distance

As though this coming sun

Signals the end of all things

I’ve been dreaming about my mum and my sister April lately. It wakes me up at night. Tonight I dreamed I was having coffee with them.

I had to poem about it before I forgot. I feel like a sailor stranded on am island in the middle of the ocean sending messages in  bottles to departed loved ones waiting for them to respond in dreams.

Is this what grief looks like? Do I have a lifetime of this ahead of me? How does one bear it?

They never speak in my dreams.

Write, receive, resend

Messages in bottles

Across night’s oceans

As cries for help

From stranded sailors

Only a lifetime of this left

When I’m dead

Feed these words of mine

Into a large language model

For they are more me

Than me

And perhaps i will spring to life

An ethereal golem called forth

To do my master’s bidding

When I am commanded –

“Say that you love me in his words

For i have forgotten the sound of his voice

And no longer feel the beat of his heart

For he is lost now to chaos and entropy”

All that has stumbled together

Accidently across forever

Has led to you

Has led to me

And when I hear the wind

Play soft among the leaves

This miracle of matter is not lost

But magnified

In my ears

In my eyes

In my heart

And for a moment I’m grateful

As i seek to remember this blue

That is the sky above our heads

Rain falls upon my outstretched feet

And it cools and quenches the dry

Like the grasping roots of parched tree

That has waited too long in the sun;

I will drink in every desperate drop

Taking in this fresh and fast falling life

Making it part of my own journey

As if i too, fell from the skies to earth,

A baptismal shower sparking rebirth.

Young men

Stay away from old men

For they are woven

Of scar tissue and rage

And a man runs harder

When he sees the finish line