does the cat recognize that i'm pissing
(when he looks at me- penis in my fingertips,
straight stream of urine from it to the toilet water)?
does he think- that's like what i do,
only different

oh, there was a girl out of place at a crazy intersection.
she came from a nearby business, crossing a nothing landscape strip
that separates one pool of asphalt from another,
stood at the corner.
she tapped her foot just a bit (there had to be some small amount of self consciousness)
then set her eyes to a downcast glance to nowhere
she had her cellphone in her hand, but didn't use it as a crutch
and i felt so glad.
after all,
i don't want to forget the way people used to wait.

today i noticed the jingling of my keys again,
and recalled a time when i feared my level of perceptiveness
would drive me to insanity or death

it is like cartoon sound
floating arcs proceeding towards me in marching succession
and, like curved, pre-fabricated metal,
they fit to my thighs, my calves, the parts of my legs
and stay for an instant before they dissolve into me
and the next one comes.
i've fowled the air
and have serious fears of limb amputation.
it's 5am and i made myself get up and write this

heading easterly now with lunar landscape
and light lifted head
headlights take to strobing
when they fall below the guardrail,
chopped up by its steadfast, sentinel supports.
in the distant darkness on some small country road,
four cars are spaced perfectly apart
and their headlights seem like some magical
mechanical apparatus
and for some reason
i imagine it doomed to become an artifact.

happiness is the words
i read on the page
that warble and flicker,
losing their opacity in random flutters,
blending into the page
all because i just stared briefly into the sun.
they're alive and playing with me
because the whole world does things like this
when it knows you've pulled back some secret fold
in its real world fabric to stop in for a stay in that elusive state
that makes you forget days
and all you ways