Torn between life and living –
I chose life, and here I have it.
I came for the cherry blossoms,
laid down in the pencil-shaped shadow
of the namesake. It was four
in the afternoon for hours. I woke
up that night covered in dew. Repenting,
as soon as a store opened, I bought a tie.
Years, laws, my wife, all passed,
and so did I, but barely.
Some places are in-between,
some people are places.

Will only be drawn in for one. That, fountain, is yet yours
to keep mystery—you who in yourself inter yourself, feedback-looping:
your substance risk, housing hazard—bear the weight which falls
for this: return from the apo(lo)getic inevitable—plummet toward
the earthly life. Even if I should learn in the shadow of your parabola
I find your voices too multiple, a murmurousness of channel
opaque, inimitable. & you take it so lightly!—you the airy
column of the temple; you who take yourself apart by your own nature /
who lawfully self-destruct & self-fulfill, simultaneous, incident.
Such a …

Long blinding blundering afternoon at Mondy’s
- Where the fuck are we going tonight?
- He messaged me asking if I’d be at Insom
Beer and laughter spin heady round
The waiter is ugly and gives you lecherous looks
A city caught mid-crash by the flashbulb sun
Frozen into twisting showers of glass concrete and splintered currency
Incandescent jewels burn spice in your nerves
- That’s gorgeous, buy that
Giddy steps leave bright holes in the sidewalk
Cobweb glimmers of yellow and red
Hem you in in noisy traffic tangles
- Look at that, they spelled “horn” as “horan”!
The evening softly at …