With little else to do
I still choose to look
around the city
at condos, cars,
concrete,
wires—all repeating.
If all of this is a construct,
that's not so bad;
at worst
it's replaceable,
and at best it's all mine.
The responsibility
is that of a
solitary oyster, but the reward
is that of a pearl.
Each word I form
is its own moment,
poised at a starting line—
I touch my mind
to the earth and originate
the world;
through the space, and it organizes
time.
