A detox poem.
Possible, bliss?
Possible confusion lies on thin cotton.
The day begins when I awake.
The universe begins when I
roll a head of hair, I will never
wonder who is there, never
wonder who has been inside
my veins, inside my time, I know
them without seeing knowing naming pointing.
It isn't necessary, it is quiet like goodbye
more still than atonement, than the underground lake
that is all one sustained air pressure pocket
like the low end of a xylophone that echoes through water,
liquid reverb.
This is the only time I feel clear,
certain, I will be moving soon
I will be delirious, living
through a thin film of internal process
but for now I am liquid I am grounded I am
equalized, I have built the universe
from my own forevered floor
from the sand in which I sink
from what I had left of it.