wipe the smear
of the moonsuns brow
exhale the holy
shit laughter
and hell fuck wow.

amazing that
a good pinot still floats
under ten bucks
amazing the bouquets managed
after the ashes
and prior to
the dust.

my cat purrs curling
tornado coil and whispersnore
while alone I giggle
in the brightest light-
how dumb we are to wish for more.

while beneath the velvet gauntlet
my heart is stirred like concrete
generic compounds from moist to solid
and I still don't know what we call it
the image behind the comet
while in one gulped gasp we saw it
this fleeting grace that haunts us.
such fleeting grace it taunts us.

this vast great grace still wants us.