lift from not to the next roadside inn

the only way to relieve stress
is to harbor delusion that all is well

it’s not a matter of agency
freely formed

objects never confounded
by their weight

craving purpose felt wrong to me
brought the tide
wings stumbling

i never found objectivity possible
in the grand scheme
of relevant ambivalence

perhaps to care is to hogwash…

did you ever know me?
perhaps not
there was little and big beyond

smoothly moving
the sun falls harshly
quickly gathering darkness
it does not float or perch or
wait for moments dreamed between
the exale of infinity…. no


like permanence and convenient

even when it was romance
and the pier
the state of moment was stretched
within mind only, blessed of length
and cold, unforgiving
dreams of what love even exacts…


delusion is safe when stress kills
but delusion stretches belief
to points of weary

moving slowly
i gave no trance and clavicle
for the greater good

looking forward i see more lies
dusting the horizon before me
not in me
no –i wear shoes of gold
or perhaps they are regurgitated dinosaur
creating a barrier
a place that where is a thing i am not
will not combine with so much fake
hats and harnesses

the next stop is delight
but never again will tourniquets find equal arrogance
to when determination was a part of the background

a thing that blew in the wind
but never moved

i gave only partly
the rest due when decisions peak
no delusion is complete without its convoluted
reality and biscuits

biscuits and jam and a place that remembers

there … home is the perfect delusion
of space aquired by hope

i am not missing hope
i am missing a dream that belongs to me
belongs to me last, only to leave the world, guessing


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