my riddle — a question I slip on

between the membranes — my fissured speech

pattern dojo

they say the challenge is in the uneasy

to rest in the known — is comfort

to rest is death


° ° °


how dramatic — to stir the melt of distant pores

to edge out what for some — is reason

for others shore

to art as nature intended — note

verb out of subject — to art a lost night of life

is life


° ° °


muffled through these walls — an answer

geysered — as empathy

how time zones

riff notes — out of something

you barely hear

my gone between


° ° °


rounding my papers

spiral effigy — chimes out that

lost chords

through a street of windows

will save you — wounding a moon

is a lost art


° ° °


to flay skin — using tongue — easy as rain

ohm de-settler — my human soul


another same question — framed

indifferently — so as to appear