Just now, on a screen
whose dimensions
you can't believe,
whatever remained
of your narrative
is dissolving.
Meaning well,
you move to grab
and hold yourself
as a little kid—
but alas, the only way
to touch him
is to catch him
doing the wrong thing.
*
Uncertainty
never swerves
from the center of the horizon.
Does this thought leave you
intrigued, or sick
and distraught?
Listen—
the next sound you hear
may be the last;
it may be
addressed to you—
or perhaps
it may not.
*
The contact high
is temporary;
soon we will have no recollection
of these stars.
As if
such faultless darkness
were really the force
of genius
making its meaning heard
above the torrent
of piss—as if
having learned
the word
for inscrutable
were the same
as comprehending it.
