sonnet v: mark two point a billion (2015)
through smudged glass (9/26/16)

nexus (2016)

Something I started in 2014, decided to experiment with it for awhile. It might be a poem, eventually. Got to detangle and simplify, and so forth.

Inhaling, eyes squeezed shut, time imperceptibly halts

a bicycle with muddy tires appears, and you,
panting with effort,
having just avoided careering off the railroad bridge

You lean toward tiny flickering flames and wait for time to move forward again
almost wondering if it can without your permission
or perhaps if it will,
leaving you behind,

and so you blow
realizing that when you again open your eyes,
nothing will have changed at all

wax dripping onto frosting like it does every year
it will taste about as good as you expect it to taste,
just like all the rest that once were and are not yet,

but your heart still senses that the space between beats
could last as long as you want it to,
even forever,
once you stop working so hard to fill it all up.