Useless to Use

My words are useless

and can find no way to stand

on their feet

so they crawl on hands

and knees

until they can push up

from the ground

coming together 

in groups and pairs

unless they prefer to be alone

My words will find their purpose

and on that day

they will flow without punctuation

in a stream of continuous thought

until they exhaust themselves

and we can rest 

When we rest

we will sleep and dream

together in bed 

like lovers 

on their first night together

Messy Piles of Words Grasping for You

It is frozen in mid-gallop
through unnamed plains.

Memory is a half-remembered jaunt through a blurry field.

Only so much I can do right now
without you here.

I don't have any use for all this wakefulness.

Turn off the faucet
the plumbing is plugged
and the water is spilling
onto the floor
who is going to clean up
this mess? who did this
in the first place?

Hope for the metaphysical,
accept the typical.

She wondered what happened to God,
how fervent her prayers once were.
Now, she hardly even remembered
him. He is lucky if she thanks Him
once a week for anything. Their
relationship has changed and He
has done nothing to fix it.

In the absence of Love
we will great Violence
against those who spurn us.

Jesus had a day job.

Fragmentation as narrative Representation.

How can you read a novel when every other chapter is missing?

Finnegan is still traveling along
a circular path of time and existence.
Why should it be any different?

I cannot think
ICANNOTTHINK
I can wonder
BUT
ICANNOTTHINK
this is no fault of yours
of mine alone.

Why? Right.

We are only as close
or as distant as we allow
ourselves to be.