blink and it’s over

17 September 2024
17 October 2024

in my library catacomb
or in nature’s bliss

I gaze up at
fluoro white lights

gleaming through acrylic skirts
of stacked furniture

or grazing over lichened
boulders balanced one on one

basically, stacked poems, I’m
building a precarious tomb with them

all this work, yeah, I know
I’ve told you I just want to

be cremated and my ashes
sprinkled on the sea

then it would be white
sunlight on me, nothing else