Tuesday, April 19, 2022


Looking up 
for the roughly fourteen 
thousandth time 

at the pocked, 
cockeyed face of a
three-quarter moon 

as it floats there, 
treading the 
infinite waves 

of this goalless, 
ocean of a universe;

I'm confused 
to find that, inside, 
I'm still thrilled 

to believe 
there must still be 

something left 
to parse in me, 

some invisible fragment
still worthy 
of rescue—

even if it looks, 
at best, blotted-out 
or lost 

in its own black 
and most boundless 
of all possible pools: 

the one with no depth, 
no surface, 
no rules.