Quiet starlit night:
Suddenly, a hundred geese
vee through the moonlight.

Captain, my Captain,
this April I am making
trout mask replicas.

Technological
investments are discouraged
by low labor costs.

A bowl of small stones
recalling lakewater waves
so cold in my hand

Involute tiers of
elaborate emptiness
guard a simple point.

The future is quite
possible, maybe even
inevitable.

People remember
and fit their recollections
to their suffering.

Keeping late hours, I
meet my stranger neighbors. They
can say the same thing.

Data that change our
account of uncertainty
are informative.

Carefully scheduled
curated moving walkways
snake through the garden.

Knock knock. Who's there? Hai.
Hai who? No, haiku. It's a
syllabic verse form.

generational
armature of forgetting
memorialized

A blue neon wave
crests the vacant shops' facade.
At night, it's still lit.

Decoy smorgasbords
lure predators to dead ends:
damming with feigned preys.

Still unmelted pools
by banking boulevard dams
made dangerous smooth.

In the markets, such
wonders! It's a shame they have
been capitalized.

Over there past that
there there is that that is past.
That's over. That's that.

Patience. In due time,
as a signal to others,
we will burn this bridge.

"Shut my eyes and make
a film, and the star of it
is Photo Jenny."

I release an egg
into a bowl, from the bowl
I release the egg.