scissors in the sun
gentle as i cut the cloth
for this great new horizon.

triumphantly special and quietly delicious
tomorrow winks farewell at today
and neither are suspicious.

and as far as i know there is no cure
for the work and toil while in it
the bounty still glows -
endure.

love, life, grace and bliss
i hold the hug strong for a moment
on what i am departing, but sweetly, i know
none of this is a that to miss, instead it's more
the anticipation
( in a partially sewn horizon ) of
the next impending
newfirst
kiss.

and no,
i have no great
gospel or epiphany
to confess.
the metaphysical hubris of youth
has acquired the bounty of accumulated days, I have
aged, I am less quick, less incendiary, more
stretched, more lean, more inclined
to less talk and more, much more
quarrantined thought, and
i am quite at peace
with this.

and no no, i am still quite
religious and fervent in my
embrace of all that cannot be touched (
but touched in all feeling with effort )
it's just that, i seem to have become more organic, more
homogenous, more local in my relation to
all that is
and shall always be divine.

what i mean to say is that, i much
more care for the beautiful children i see wearing
the brilliant faces of my beloved friends, much more
care for the dream of my own children, my own goodness
to a bride not yet found, and to the revolutionary pageantry
of domestic paganism, than with dwindling
intentions left
to become the understudy
for the role of god.

things are
good, life is
good, and everything that i need to be i
can. everything that i dream will and might
occur and if and when it does, do not be alarmed if
there is no poem pursuant to, that blows
the balls or tits off your soul
to confirm it.

i wonder when i will think of you, years
from now and what
i will think.
i wonder if what you
gave was free from fear i think
it was, but you are
you, and that is
that.

little girl in so many ways and grey nun in
so many others.
no sundays left my dear in this old
church of me.
so it is a shame, perhaps, that
this is done now, or it is a shame perhaps
that this ever was.

but fuck it, all in the blink
of a day, in the sudden
and incredible flash
of a lifetime.
we were, and i suppose,
that
had it's reason.

and as i play in real time
the rewind of this
slow motion detonation, i have
to enjoy the absurdity of ever thinking
we could share
similar togethers
of any similar
and gentle
forevers.

and she likes me
only in circles
and only
on the whim of her occassion.
and as always if there is
much work for little joy
and there is no vlaue left for you to propose
then the circle
will not unravel will not
break linear.

and you are
a beautiful mess, to me at
least, bits and pieces of who I loved mixed
with someone that I do not know, and who cares little
for more.

and so I stretch, laugh-yawning, tossing
this silly leash into the fresh smile of the sun.

and it's now less riddle than history, less flame more
dim, as I watch you fall away, as I let you fall far
and away, and I stand
up, unclutter aching and sore
joints exhausted from months of bended knee, and
this freedom excites me, to be so free of you,
you who I would have given my world to, but with so many
stars in such great space, there is no reason
left, to wish
on any flash of light in your orbit, be well
my dear
be well.