castaway
Starward I send the cast
foretold, fortuitous
desire-weaving with decadent thrusts
testing the physics of sand, it stands
but who were they, who applauded me?
meetings not recorded, not shared
I never got to tell them I cared
still trying to outrun history's collection
I'll go willingly okay, if I go at all
brave but small, weeds overgrown
yes I left clues, near fall's frightening jaunt
to a wayward soul, they're gone
but a child will find them if they want
ships of Theseus, crowding the dock
waking up each morning
in an already boiling pot
I said some things I didn't mean,
or I didn't mean what you think
anyway, it's been foggy for two weeks
and I think that deserves a drink
but there's no one here, no eyes, no hair
just a ceramic cat giving me a vacant stare
with ever more tepid hope I send my cast
tentically in all directions, to find at last
a temporary relief from rotting leaves
an unexpected and dream-like reprieve
I laugh if it's coming together, sweet Neroli
the dew on you, awakening in a field
golden tears and drops of silver steel
these are the things I use for my art
to draw people to something, I draw the unseen
communication- the nature of separate parts
to commune or commute, one requires a route
but routes are tricky, and words are sticky
and dead ends end up in scrapbooks
or ceremonial fires of new beginnings
I go back to memories that I don't want to lose
and put bookmarks in them like a fuse
that I can relight when all seems lost
(the artist seems to be rambling
as if he's his own muse)
~
March 2026