September 22, 2012 § Leave a comment

what’s there is here. I didn’t come far enough to lose

myself within myself

within another form, the swinging love, the hanging sloth

dear, departed oak

I should be drinking saltwater from the Aegean

I should be pushing rocks from the top of the mountain

onto my loved-ones

there is no ‘lie’ in liar but honesty is harder

than the rocks, and heavier


those unable to push it from the side of the mountain

should steady on, settle down

and keep swinging

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