Dual poems

I know morning rituals. I take tea to the mountain on cold days; tumble the first 

steep to cedar and sweetgrass dirt. This is for Kishelamàkânk, she teaches. 

The audience is an illusion, she teaches. 

I am speaking to you.

Hand on my heart – I am speaking directly to you. 

This rinse is for the earth:

Leaves, just rubbing their eyes, start their long cycle back to the dirt of the tea tree. I sacral the ground, I

come from the blank page. I come from the black ink sweat of creative fever. I come from 

Dis-

-integrating with sunlight: double-slit experiment through the gap between door and door-

-frame.

I’ve got the grimiest fucking banger of a life, you know? I’m writing so many “I am” poems be-

-cause

I’ve no clue [____] I am; this is a BIOS problem & it’s all thanks to consciousness link

rot. 

If my dead body, my constant corpses, appeared to walk the earth, could I face them? Whose 

Face

Would they have? Would they know my face? This in-accessibility of my old files renders 

me in

visible; the sun set after 7:30 today. I watched a wall of bugs swarm around the tentative night & watched Swallows hang impossibly in the air to catch them, gobbling up the knobby leg & alien thorax. I watched bats beat off my sorrows from their sorry old state. The sun set after 7:30 today. The cars, the cars trained on suburban targets rocketed past my porch. Truthfully, I would have liked them to stop for tea. Not for the taste, or the pragmatics of quenching thirst – just for the company. Behind them, behind them, a bezel of earth glinting. Light, plastered on its sheer face — mountains, my friends, real mountains, and the reddish stain of woodsman blood on them. We haven’t been (rotating with planet) 

Earth. The sun set after 7:30 today; 

I’ve been filtering the written word through myself through the written word through 

myself 

through the written word through myself through the written word through myself through the written 

word 

through myself through the written word through 

Euphoria. I know what you are. I know what you are. The sun set after 7:30 today, and this is 

the sign I’ve made it.