Judging One's Own Life

I'm driving a compact car down a grey street,

Albert Brooks looks at my hair from the backseat.

Radio wires and carebears rain from the blue sky.

I see my eyes reflected in the glass

Between Meryl Streep and I.

8 Billion Parts, 1 Whoul

I don't know what I'm doing.

But I am doing this.

Look at my 43rd eyebrow hair from the left. Please?

Good. Thanks. Is it pointing at you?

Yes. My soul is a cave.

Deep and infinite. Darker than everything and nothing.

My soul is your soul. Her soul is his soul.

Our soul is our home.

The earth is a place.

Earth in our feet and our tongue.

Talk to me. Tell me where it hurts.

Hospitals and hospice and home entertainment systems.

Blown out speakers, wobbly computer chairs, I walk through the window.

Theresa hears a blame, fallen and black as ill-treated oil.

I ooze from the pristine faces of the youngest sinners.

Hang the safe curtain of doubt and studiously craft dinners.

Ghostly pale, freckles of shadow.

I called out to her, one of the future, the imperfect image, oceans in our pants, stars in our tricolored, globular eyes.

I still wait for her to reply. I don't know why.

every able person

my urgent anxious thought:

If every able person (and me) always responsibly volunteered for a charity - to house, or to feed, or to provide health care, or otherwise - to help every person in need....

I might relax and feel better.

Appearance of Achievement and Achievement of Appearance

Write a story
that fits your personality,
which was given to you
by the alm-ighty.
You're the reason it grew.

Peace be with you; peace be with me.
It's all right if you cannot find peace, because
not everyone is the same; not everything is just.
At the end of all of this,
everything will be better

I miss you like a sailor misses land.

I miss her like the land misses rain.

I miss the sky like never misses now.

I want to know you. I want to know how. .. .

I want to see the bottom left edge of your beige trenchcoat hang in front of the blue rainy skyline, way up high, as you look towards me. Grey rock and long steel beams. No stooping, no steeping. Just looking and reaching effortlessly. Unnamed Person, Unnamed City.

Maybe If I Feel Better, I'll Be Like I Was.

I feel good, because that is all I want.

I'm in Heaven. I am Heaven. I'm going to Heaven.

I am a star in a cloud.
Light burns.
While water and time are still,
we work them out, they work us out.

Black and white
Past and future
Up, down, left, right.
On the trail beside Lady Bird Lake,
one early, "busy-as-shit", warm, sunny afternoon,
I stopped moving, I close my eyes,
I push my arms through my torso,
deep inside, deep outside.

I feel a hole that I fill with what I decide.