when I close my eyes
I sort rarified contrails from fogs
discern minnows in the shallows
now you see it now you don’t
magic eye patterns
thought mandalas in my inner ear

now that I have thoughts I am lucky
or is it just chaff
I can no longer fool myself
the empress has holes in her underwear

the interstitial space of life is
your partner’s breath in the bathroom,
the rasp of toilet paper
a tree coughing in the woods

everybody knows everybody’s lonely
‘cept for me & you
we don’t exercise Christmas with caution
I hope you still like me cuz I like you,
highest priority

if I could just catch the kite I wouldn’t be so mediocre
if I could just hold on to the kite
I’m scared that if I float away I lose my anchor
I lose my algebra

(truth is what you really think & you hurt our feelings) or
your nihilism removes yourself preemptively from pain

You refuse to explain yourself &
I respect that. There is an expectation
of academic freedom (ironic). There is
‘maturity’ vs. truth, mature truth,
refusal to be ridiculous,
ridiculous exceptionalism vs respect
vs approximate workable solutions
in the world
but yr sayin no to kown town
yes is ubiquitous
soft mouthed mothings

you got a faint contrail of pain
in yr ego

step into that next room to be sincere
step into that next room again
step into that next room again
endless sceptic russian doll stitches
in fabric of rationalizations

(but do you really care, o yes I do,
if you were friend who is next to me
if only I had the time & you were my neighbor
instead of a reference to an idea)

to be regarded then disregarded
it’s all understandable
people are not the same
everyone is special
no equal sides, no equal angles
do you like what I like, then I like you
& especially if you give me presents

stop stepping in the same place
consider the dividing line:
when hands were feet & arms were legs

lady k

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