05:00
The minute passes—
shadow behind the glasses
towering so far away now
here again like yesterday
I want to go
up and over to the next dream
I had yesterday
back and up and over
to the next dream.
Life is here and now
on the dot like the ticking
minute passes—rhythm pulses
to yesteryears burnt up
and melted away.
Yes I seek
and
seek
destroy, destroy,
the memory
of a memory
reopening
in a box.
There it is closing now
the bottom flipping down.
and flap it drops, hey,
I wanted that.
Last time I checked I was alive.
But when I last checked, well,
I was conscious, so how would I know if I was truly alive?
I think only a few hours ago now was when I fell asleep.
I’ll never see that same river twice
not even in my own mind, so close to me ah yet so far.
The music is still resounding in a deep cave
some recess full of sounds
that glow that radiates
a voidious void.
Practicalize my light into use.
Mind—are you there?—yes?—do something memorable won’t you?
I wish I could, but every utter-trance
trances me to sentences
full of traces dance.
Blips and blips underwent
and glitched,
swimming full of spacers
spinning down the stairs,
down, down the caterpillar’s spine.
Patterns of the blood moon sunflares. The grind.
++++++
Being inside this thought within this persona within this dream within this brain within this body within this bed within. . .ah . . . being outside this thought outside this persona outside this dream outside this brain outside this body outside this bed outside . . . ah . . . being next to this thought next to this persona next to this dream next to this brain next to this body next to this bed next to. . . ah . . . being opposite this thought opposite this persona opposite this dream opposite this brain opposite this body opposite this bed opposite. . . ah . . . being nowhere in this thought nowhere in this persona nowhere in this dream nowhere in this brain nowhere in this body nowhere in this bed nowhere . . . ah . . . being everywhere in this thought