I hate myself for showing up to work. What a waste. I’ve danced four sets for worse than no one, just those who return my failing attempts at sensuality with a dehumanizing stare. I’m continually reminding myself that it’s not my fault that I’m not making money. Not helping though.
My earliest memoryI was maybe 2 or 3On a beach in MazatlánWith an assortment of family. A long stone staircaseThin and windingAscended the beachDisappeared in the city. At the top of the stairsWas an ice cream shopI longed to visitBut hated climbingThe myriad of steps. The trek was dauntingAnd I
If I could hack the worldObserve its computationsDissect its codeLeaving its secretsIntimately exposedI’d have to ask myself honestlyWhat would this power do to me? In the long nightsThrough wired dreamsAnd fluorescent fantasiesOf amplified heroicsWith synthesized idealsMolding a societyAnd adjusting humanityTo a higher resolution. To slide fluidlyThrough the mainframesOf earth’s institutionsBe
We should fear the ocean. Something we know without being told. Enter extremity: A shifting massEasily knocking us to the sandWith such obviousUnrestrainablePower. I almost died in the ocean once But breath broke through The suffering void And aspiring skin Touched the shore again. Since that haunted eveningThe sea and
“Do you ever feel restless?” Asked the worker of a drone. “Long to live beyond the structuresThe hexagons of honeycombs? Ever feel we’re something more Than antenna twitches And wing flicks And buzzing bands of yellow In vast washes of green Under distant blankets of blue? Away from the queenApart
All your heroes will fail you No matter how super they are. Tremendous strength Endurance and speed Lapping the limits Of human capacity Decisively shattering Known possibilities May not be all It’s cracked up to be. If great power comes With great responsibility Are you sure your heroes Are up
When I look to the waves, I see an origin story. A moment of tension, Unresolved, Refusing to cease. My introduction, His desperate bobbing form, Scarcely differentiated from the surrounding flotsam. Slick skin as I pulled him to the boat, Air reentering his body, His vitality surging suddenly through me.
1. An Inquiry Is magic The physical manifestation of imagination? The power to plunge into fantasies And never have to leave? Make life more like dreams Or bouts of creativity? Freeing the luster of stories From material possibilities? Taking reality In whatever direction We might see it go. Is it
Out there, Where the moon rocks splash, In a sea of stars, A daring dreamer, Rails against, The cold steel walls, Of an atmosphere. Stowed away, Forging a vessel, Through quiet intention, And craftsmanship, To channel the liquid night, And take refuge in the sky. Eyes forever onward. Inhabiting, Improvised
How do we not find it exhausting, Living lives, Born into mystery? We’re thrown into this world, Helplessly absorbing, Ideas from other minds, Crawling our way, Towards an