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i have made no sound all dayis it my turn today? still, the quiet has a pulse,the universe must hum where it is empty i stand there, caught in the brief breath,wondering what i should say,and the song finds me anyway remember this:even listening is an art,and art is mostly listening
i missed you quietly todaywithout disturbingthe birds with a wailor the table with a deep sighand the heavy fold of my arms i missed you noiselesslyno one even knewi said hi to some on the streetthey smiled backso did i i missed you todaywithout a wordor a single soundbut i’ll admit that sometimesthere in the … Continue reading
life must be livedforwardbut learntbackwards each lesson is this:you have enough timeyou have enough timeyou have enough time get started there will be nothing betterthan the untimed life livedas more than enough
to make it in this worldit is not complicated you need no morethan a little bit of lightand a cat and if you are foreverdoomed to the dark then a light cat will do
it is true that everythingis terrible but look howthe cup holds the tealisten to how loudthe laughter can beand know that somewhereand someplacedespite the darknessand worst oddsa seed has opened undergroundalready blindly searching for the light the only truly terrible thingis to forgetthat these small miraclesare a part of everything too
Dear dear, There are many promises we say to one another. When there is a pear being cut, you will always offer a piece to me. When I come to your house in a slight surprise to my busy self, I am armed with some small, hopeful snack or gift. When the morning sunlight rests … Continue reading
Dear dear, I have described your eyes, but have I seen their sight? Have I watched them watch, held what they’ve held? Once, yes. We were biking to the Montreal waters, to be soaked by the sun. A train was passing. Giant curves of fibreglass and metal from a windmill yet to be constructed trailed … Continue reading
Dear dear, Most of these letters are composed in the dark, one that is singular and shared between us. It smells of you, of a great, blistering absence. It whispers to me what it was to feel your femur in Montreal midnight and how the morning fumbled with your scapula today. The unicelled organism of … Continue reading
Dear dear, In nine months, I am happy to be the first to present to you a healthy, though squawking birth, a weird congratulation for the act of insemination of a thing that is meant to be more than a thing, a failed bird, a busted egg, an omelet if the bird-part sticks faster than … Continue reading
Dear dear, The rain is long and the night is short and I am somewhere in between missing you and remembering you and telling myself that one should never start with rain, especially when we began with a sleek, soaked summer at a bar where the drinks were overpriced and there were far too many … Continue reading
Mizpellt wurdz 