“I is Another” (or pronouns as shifters; after Jon Fosse)

Like the first,

the every new

dependent of change;

agent of again,

now this

.

the starting

that continues

into while

.

its struck

and tumbled

and keeps rumbling

a murmured name

.

an other, again,

an I, again,

iota, (the smallest mark),

now this

Promptings

Now we scrape away the hair.

this is the act of remembering;

new growth.

Next we explore the beauty –

of women, of plants, of men,

and other things;

of rocks, of beasts, and everything.

This is called rejoicing –

often emitting in sighs, and songs,

and pain –

And so we slice our flesh –

joining the inside with out

through searing and drowning,

the fluids, the ashes –

This is how we mourn.

.

And morning still comes,

the seeds, sperm, germs,

and dawn all continue

their leakage and drift,

And thus we are released –

like tears,

like dust,

And something absorbs

it all:

the hair, the blood,

the love, the screams,

the differences and repetitions

of traumas and loss

such awesome gains

each beauty its’ evening,

And so we reach –

receiving

Snow Showers

Snow has a love of detail

like the aged obsessed

with the young

.

every crevice,

nook and cranny,

limb or leaf,

even planted veins

.

all are surface

to snow

which goes to show

about trained attention

.

you get to try

and decide

what is love

and what desire

.

what comes

together

to keep

snow falling

Word Drunk. Like Birds. (or, noises from a cabin)