What
is grace? The spin
of
a wasp, a locomotive
in
the breath. Allow
yourself
to be yourself
I
hear someone vacuuming
the
hallway and I dream
of
Hamlet riding a motorcycle
across
Arizona with a monkey
on
his back. I like to create rhythms
for
the dance of jelly
during
the collapse
of
industrial civilization
the
truth is never simple
let
me whisper in your ear
I
need razors and Oreo cookies
there’s
no morality in nature
it’s
a dog eat dog world
with
a little occasional hedonism
thrown
in. I once lived in California
where
I learned to photosynthesize
and
enjoy wine. Music
drooled
from the suburbs
and
various rivers bumped into the ocean
an
exit from experience
does
not attest to the fate of what
comes
out of experience
I
banish all mass from this poem
homelessness
has been normalized
and
I’m sitting in a gas
of
nitrogen and oxygen
while
the glaciers melt and the seas
begin
to rise and flood the cities
the
slow drip of candle wax
attests
to the beauty of understatement
I
don’t think we’re going to ride this one out
hang
on to your hat
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