Lament

 I am

what you should call degenerate,

two states between

which I can barely

tell the

difference

and when observed in them

can you?

お見舞い

時計針

静かな呼吸

一緒歩む

5:56

暗い朝

静止に静かに

時計が来る

Blue Key

I read the air, 

heavy with mistaken rain,

and felt moss, like wet carpet

from when I always forgot to

return my towel to the rack

next to the shower

The soft ground was cold comfort

to repeatedly bending knees.

Time was slow (comparatively).

My face, the smoothest

it had been since puberty

(from a kind man who might have

perceived my fear, but could not

parse my gratitude)

was shining, remembering 

the you that I believed in

My breath was timed,

one for each two steps,

fast - rubbing my trachea

liberating the taste of

iron in my mouth

that iron, realizing its own disorder

(and loving it) refined itself into a sheet,

an edge, a point.

I gripped a handle.

The truth imagined in my heart,

now realized by a shivering hand.

ジャズ

黒鍵と白鍵

銀色の楽器や

鳴き声で

ポケットの内容

スマホ財布

旅券車の鍵

硬貨の音

Husk

The last whiskers of a late winter ear of corn were withering into a dust when I heard the whistle of your sleeping sigh and thought you might not know me all that well.

But winter comes and winter goes, and corn goes away and grows and to the soil and trees and everything with eyes that can see years will say that brown and dull yellow can only lead to green.