thank God I am a

part of who I could be.

thank=pay     

god=gun

do they still have

private meaning?

I think about the little graveyard, I get so tired I have to shut my monitors

fit my body

into my body

I believe your

life had value

believe=                      

life=    

value=

body of my mind

body of my body

, try to

fucking think.

short walk to clouds

                        under them alchemy

crystals deforming as they contact the face

open circles vehicles of moist entropic cold

—the computer understands rain and skin, it just

doesn’t understand rain on skin—

and you your dirty mind hopping around like an excited doggess

feeling of crust brought on by muddy boots

earth so caked so disgusting rich red-brown, says

we are connected, you and I—say it

sucking on a cut knuckle

wherever desert there is barbed wire

no, you had to close your fist around a

cholla stem to say what Gary Snyder said

communally innocently sexistly? in another time

this is our body.

cottontail was there tiny bat

in the gray sky clearly raccoon

had been there too ask how

I know forgetting there are

such things as tracks

in the wet sand where after time

river showed so slow it seemed

unmoving but by certain

rocks crumbs of earth carapace

around which water gurgles

I could not swim but was able to keep

myself safe by not visiting the ocean.

Some animals have lungs and some have gills,

what is it called if you have

both, a baby?

I guess I was a baby.

When I could not move I saw my reflection

inside the small cup of tea and knew I had no

reason to be ashamed of my choices in life.

Then over my shoulder I saw a tree.

A large tree,

its branches touching my hair.

Were you at peace then? Yes, because

I was so disabled.