Greetings all – I wanted to apologize for the sloppy frenzy of disregulated writings I’ve been releasing with little meditation or editing of late. “In the midst of things…” somewhere near the crossover looping of composition, storage, digestion, excretion, and growing…I’ve found it somewhat difficult to know what it is I am doing aside from what must be done.
Feeling change,
an entering of halves and fractions
tired and ecstatic
sad and delighted
moving on and along.
Having lost and lost and lost
while ever continuing to gain,
such simple equations
of little sense
yet filled with meaning
a meager promise
and maximal joy.
Polysemic Stupor 
It is liked. Eaten before tasted. Tasted in text and texture. Context skewed ( my voice, not yours, or and maybe, subvoice, an acting memory of voice). Consumed wriggled word worms live on, I dare say, on corpse embodied, a bright mildew, a bloom, a tempered breath, a mist on sharp steel.
“Having lost and lost and lost / while ever continuing to gain.” Yes. Thank you.