344poem

October 14, 2011

Oxygen and the like causes
all kinds of spontaneousness
to move the mind’s line into
a blurring open-end question
with pinkish horizon that too
might be brain expanding.
Or maybe: the advance I felt
was beginner’s art blowing back
the no-thought zone so popular
with those who tone the notion
of being into a nightly bedtime ritual:
aqueous transmission, screen glow,
fingers of arched séance crawling
that beyond for a sign, anything.

LOCATION: Lincoln, Nebraska – Parents are visiting for the weekend; my dad is snoring in the livingroom as I write.

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