of intrusive thoughts
is how they
never seem to make themselves
at home,
how each
is preempted, and prevents
the last one
from getting stuck
in the flow.
*
Obscure loops
of bird slang
buffeting me
from the roof in
the morning
like shrill orbits
around a supermassive
object, long-collapsed;
like empty electron shells
around a hydrogen atom.
all going nowhere
in the most urgent fashion;
like a time-lapse
of doomed bees in what's left
of autumn flowers—
showing me there's always
something to remember,
even if I only know that
because I have forgotten.
*
The hottest gift
this Christmas season
is suspension
of your disbelief
that, unlike loneliness
or empty space,
need is a hole
you can fill
with itself.
